Masquerade
by amakasu toko
Summary: Harry and Draco aren't Veelas, Vampires, or anything of that sort. They are something far grander, something that could affect the entire wizarding world...but too bad coming out isn't as easy as killing Voldemort. !Creature!Bond!Dark HPDM
1. Beginnings

**AN:** Hmm, there's really not much to say. This is a sort-of AU ficcie, and uh...hope you enjoy it? O.o; Oh, and the POV alternates between Draco and Harry. It should be fairly easy to distinguish who's POV and who's whatsit. If not, comment about it to me in your reviews and I'll clarify it.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco hide behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

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Masquerade: Beginnings

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Have you ever felt some kind of emptiness inside  
You will never measure up, to those people you  
Must be strong, can't show them that you're weak  
Have you ever told someone something  
That's far from the truth

-----------------------------------------------------------------

_**I cannot fall in love.**_

That's all there is to it. I just can't; it is...of utmost importance that I do not feel that dratted emotion. Hell's bells, I should not be feeling emotion, period.

It's something I've trained myself to believe in.

_Don't think I can't see you scoffing, you bloody piece of glass. _I angrily glare at my reflection.

After all, anyone who feels cannot survive in the Malfoy family. I still shiver at the memory of Lucius—yes Lucius, what did you expect? Me to call him father or...even Daddy?—enchanting his belt to flail me for daring to smile at my mother.

_Another weakness._ I hiss to myself.

Feeling protective of my mother is another emotion I really ought to get rid of, though I know I conceal it well. I don't love her though. No, I don't love anyone.

_Don't give me that look,_ I glare again, _You, of all people, should know I don't even love myself._

I feel another twinge in my gut and I wince.

_You have too many weaknesses, Malfoy._

When I should be feeling apathy, I feel disappointment, failure, and jealousy. Worst of all, I also feel hatred.

Hatred towards my family.

Hatred towards my colleagues.

Hatred towards my life.

**Hatred towards my very existence.**

But at the very least, I hide it well beneath my beautiful mask of indifference; the very same shell that's been keeping me alive all these years. I almost let out a chuckle, startling that blasted blob of a reflection in the mirror. Yes, I fool even myself with that ice-cold exterior that I had painstakingly built. I raise an eyebrow at myself.

_Why the need for apathy? The answer is simple: for Survival._

In order to keep myself from self-combustion, I must feel nothing. I feel nothing when Lucius looks at me with disapproval, nothing when he lashes at me with his Cruciatus training, nothing when my mother cries over my wounds at night. Absolutely nothing.

And of course, nothing when I am forced to accept a marriage to continue my lineage.

_Don't laugh at me. You don't know anything!_ I mentally shout.

It's not that I'm an over-sensitive, emotional git who needs protection from the world. No, I'm much more intelligent than those fools. If I feel nothing, then I will not have the will to object to my father's wishes. I won't have conflicting emotions over what is just and I sure as hell won't have any problems with marrying someone when there is no one I love in the first place.

It is better to have loved than to have never loved at all.

_Bullocks._ I sneer, my lips curling in disgust.

Ha, my apathy helped quite a lot when Lucius ordered me to drown that ragged dog on the streets to test my obedience. It even helped when I didn't scream or shout as he cast the blasted Crucio curse on me after.

_Stop looking at me like that. _

I'm completely indifferent! I don't care what happens to the world; what happens to me. I have resigned myself long ago, that I am but a tool to my family. I am not worth having emotions. I am not worth

_**Anything.**_

The slivers of glass slice into my porcelain flesh as I throw back my head in a mad cackle; my hand bloodied and torn as I tear at the remains of the mirror. Indeed, there is a fine line between apathy and insanity, and I find being one or the other just fine.

----------------------------------------------

Have you ever seen your face,  
In a mirror there's a smile  
But inside you're just a mess,  
You feel far from good  
Need to hide, because they'd never understand

----------------------------------------------------

_**I cannot fall in love.**_

I just can't. It's not that I don't want to...Well, I guess I don't.

I hide my mouth as I chuckle silently to myself. Who would've thought that the "almighty Boy-Who-Lived" did not have a lover? As aloof as I may be, even I have gotten to notice all the girls who bat their eyelashes in my presence. Which Ginny is currently doing, I'm afraid.

There's simply too many things going on to fall in love. In other words, I really don't have the time.

Lame excuse? I know, but it's true. Only in sappy romance novels that Hufflepuffs read do you hear about heroes who valiantly battle villains with a supporting lover at their side.

I am not a hero.

...nor do I want support.

Everyone expects me to be _the One_. Almost like that Keanu-Reeves-Neo character from that Muggle movie _Matrix_.

_Surprise surprise, I'm just a kid forced into doing some 'prophecy' and getting people killed._

"Harry? You feeling all right? You've been picking at those eggs like you're raking for some hidden treasure in there." Hermione said, a tinge of concern flashing across her eyes.

"Wha? I'm just a bit tired, that's all." I smile back, a wave of annoyance engulfing me.

She smiled back and went back to her food as I immediately shove the remnants of the scrambled embryonic corpses into my mouth.

Disgusting.

No, not the embryonic corpses, though it does taste a bit bland after being poked at so many times. It's revolting the way everyone clamors over each other in mock concern. Oh sure, you're worried about Mr. Hero, but what about Harry?

_If you were but a normal Gryffindor, no one would be asking where you were even if you cast the killing curse on yourself in a hidden corner. In fact, no one would even know you were there until you were all but ashes._

I smile absently at Ron, who apparently just made some incredible joke. He and Hermione know I've been keeping things from them, but like I've told them a trillion times, I just want some time alone.

**Isolation** would be a better word.

Sometimes I wonder if I've become stoic; a lack of emotions when it comes to anything. Ever since this entire...Hogwarts-Voldemort thing, I've gone from 1st year happiness and wonder to 7th year...nothing?

Oh yes, there are some emotions still alive: disappointment, failure, and jealousy. Don't forget about hatred; mainly hatred.

Hatred at Voldemort.

Hatred at my past.

Hatred at my life.

**Hatred towards my very existence.**

Before I had a plan to cover my increasing pile of bitterness, my "friends" (Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the bloody world) were immediately on my case. Then my plan started. Guess what it was?

A mask.

A mask of complete innocence; Beautiful and unflawed, it came complete with a smile and masked everything. Yes, I was Harry Potter, the pure Golden Boy who was everything anyone would want. Harry Potter the hero.

**Harry Potter the fake.**

I know all this negativity is going to combust on me one day; it'll blow my stone handiwork into smithereens. However, I won't think about that. I _cannot _think about that.

_Who would have thought? Wonder Boy Harry Potter is a complete fraud, _I hear my inner conscience whisper, _the Boy-Who-Lived lost his innocence long ago._

It suddenly dawned upon me that, contrary to belief, I am nothing; the wizard world is depending on absolutely nothing. And I'm definitely not worth

_**Anything.**_

I brush the unruly strands of hair off my face as I chuckle, earning startled glances from the rest of the Gryffindors. I continue laughing, the tears rolling down my face as I cover my face with my hands, even as Hermione and Ron are gently patting my back to make me calm down.

Indeed, there is a fine line between deception and insanity, and I find one or the other just fine.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"What have we got this year?"

"We have...You have got to be bloody kidding me! Potions with Snape...Again!"

"Ron! He's actually a competent Potions master!"

"But Hermione, he has got to be the most biased, vilest, cruelest being alive!"

"Look who we have today. The Hero, the mudblood, and his fool of a sidekick." A voice drawled out.

"Merlin's blasted boots, shove off, Malfoy."

"Hm? I didn't know that weasels could speak."  
"I should have known that ferrets bite." A feminine voice snapped. I raised an eyebrow.

"You'd think that incident was so...oh what do those mudbloods say? So...yesterday," Grinning in mock triumph at my knowledge of a Muggle word, I continued, "Anyway, I was talking to Harry, not boring myself silly with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum."

I gazed into Harry's eyes, forcing him to challenge my glare with his own sullen ones.

"I haven't heard of you this whole summer. Did you finally stop causing people to die?"

I smile to myself as I see Harry visibly flinch. Weasley had turned as red as his hair and Granger looked like she was about to knock my britches off. Not that she could.

"How can you be so cruel?" She whispered to me.

"He's a Malfoy, what do you expect?" Ron glared.

_To answer your question, it's because I have to._

True, the words that Harry and I exchange have gotten crueler over the years; in fact, we've even delved into the sensitive issue of deaths, both sides trying to cause as much emotional damage to the other as possible. It's almost a surprise that we haven't bitten each other's throats off yet.

_Then again, _I notice to my amusement, _we have too much control for that._

You see, I know that he wears a mask to cover up everything he feels. He bottles up anything and everything, which I use to his advantage. And him?

"I don't know, Malfoy, but I haven't heard from you either. Was it hard to cover the deaths of those that you Deatheaters killed?"

**It takes one to know one.**

Although no one ever mentions it, his remarks towards me are just as cold and sharp-edged as my own. A tingle of excitement flares throughout my body, my eyes glowing in eerie delight.

"Potter, you tell me. After all, you're the one who's responsible for all of it."

I know I've sworn to apathy, but humans were born to rebel.

And Harry Potter's resistance to my taunts is bloody worth not feeling apathy for. Had I jeered at anyone else, even a Slytherin, they would have slinked away with their tails between their legs.

But Potter, ah, Potter. He is the only one who still makes me feel like I'm...alive; like I'm not a tool meant to be used and thrown away. Yes, he resists me and challenges my reason for existence.

I sneer at him and walk away with a swirl of my robes, casting off a faint smirk as I notice that the people around me, male and female, Gryffindor and Slytherin, staring at me with a glazed, lustful look on their face.

_Poor dearlings, _I murmur secretly to them, _I am but a tool, and tools do not love, merely destroy._

----------------------------------------------------

"Are you going to let him walk away with the final word?" Ron gasped angrily.

I stare at Draco's retreating back, his superior smirk causing at least half of those around him to faint.

That damned mask of his is so flawless and beautiful that it attracts even those who hate him. Then again, so does mine. Hmm? How do I know he wears a shell like me?

**It takes one to know one.**

I match his every blow with an equal blow; his smirk with an equal smirk. I even match his bottomless limit of cruelty.

_Oh, but you're Harry Potter! How could you be anything but innocent?_ A voice mocks inside my head.

_Sod off. _I snarl back, _I don't need my own mind whispering the lies that those around me say already._

"Let's just go." Hermione mutters as she tugs at my arm. I grab Ron's arm in return and smile at him, telling him that everything's fine.

As we walk to class, I let a hint of amusement creep onto my face, remembering the sense of satisfaction I got when Draco shivered at my Deatheater comment.

_Without Draco, life would be so boring. _I surmised.

It is only Draco who could flare up the dead feelings that people know as "positive emotions": Excitement, thrill, adventure...Yet without Draco, the ability to shy behind my mask would also be much easier. It is human nature to rebel against their orders, as I am rebelling against my own will to live a perfect lie. I assure Hermione and Ron that we will get Drac—Malfoy, as they like to call him, in the next Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch game, earning myself a few pats on the back as the other Gryffindors immediately jumped to the occasion of tossing more jeers and taunts at the pale boy.

I narrow my eyes slightly and quickly change the topic. The familiar feeling of jealousy flares into my stomach.

_Draco Malfoy is mine._

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"The score, 50 – 10, Gryffindor in the lead!" Madam Hooch booms, the crowd wild with excitement.

"Fancy seeing you here," Draco whispered into my ear as he flew near me, "thought your 'friends' would be too overprotective of you to even let you walk."

As he flew off, I roll my eyes, a genuine smile flitting across my features as I continue searching for the golden snitch. Suddenly, I see Draco zooming back towards me—No, past me as he tries to reach something! The snitch was right behind me!

I turn around, racing him towards the object that would win the pride for our House. Higher and higher we go, the snitch still unreachable. Our hands outstretched, I grab his and as he looks at me in alarm, I whisper back,

"Fancy seeing you here. I thought you wouldn't have enough flying talent to even reach this far."

He hisses at me as I release his hand, spinning in front of him towards the snitch. In a flash, he—what?

_The _Draco Malfoy just leaned in closer, his back brushing against me, _leaning _to me—Oh. He's trying to knock me out of my broom.

Since I match him blow for equal blow; sneer for equal sneer—there's no way he's besting me in this. I grab hold of him as I intentionally fall from my broom.

"Isn't this fun? We're both going down." I breathe into his ear, my arms tightening painfully around his petite frame. He trembles, presumably from fear, and my smirk widens.

"I knew we were the same." He whispers back, turning his head to the side so that I can see his smirk, "once those sidekicks of yours are gone, we're identical, really."

A suppressed laughter clouds his eyes as he watches me stiffen.

"It's nothing you and I don't already know." I sneer, eyes widening slightly as he nods—almost dreamily—in agreement.

Together we fall, two fallen birds dropping from the sky; too entwined together to escape and falling to their immediate deaths...

I sense Draco relaxing as my own eyes close. Funny how neither of us care if we're rescued or not.

After an eternity and a day, I can hear the spells that the professors cast in alarm over me. If I weren't holding onto Draco, the poor boy would have broken his neck.

_Just like them to go for the fraud and leave the broken doll alone._

Both of us land softly onto the grass, eyes snapping open and both of us leaping away from each other. Almost in a perfect act, we glare at each other and hiss.

Professor McGonagall was on the field in an instant, as was Professor Snape and Dumbledore.

If any of the other players fell, it'd just be Madam Hooch telling them to drop by the Infirmary.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I saw young Malfoy pushing Potter off his broom." McGonagall declared, glaring at me with a harsh look.

"I beg to differ; it was Potter who grabbed Draco off _his _broom!" Snape spat. The two professors glared at each other. Albus merely shook his head and sighed.

"I do believe it was a bit of both. Let's just make this simple and prevent some headaches, hm? I should disqualify your teams, but since both were at fault, there's not much I can do. Instead, you will both do detention for a month. Report to Hagrid tonight, as he has been asking for some assistance."

Snape and McGonagall watched Dumbledore strut off the field with equal gapes of horror. Playing my role, I sputter and shout,

"A whole _month_! With POTTER!"

"Malfoy! Silence before I take points from your house!"

I shut my mouth and glare, almost guffawing in an un-Malfoy-like manner as I notice Harry bristle at my comment. I smirk to him as he keeps his mouth shut, playing his own role of the "abused Hero".

Whatever happened to the true Harry was gone, and I almost missed it. Almost.

Malfoys do not miss anything. Hell, a stoic Malfoy should not miss at all. Even that small itch that there was someone alone like me was rubbed down harshly and slapped. Don't forget the surge of acceptance and belonging that I quelled with ferocity equal to a dragon protecting his treasure.

Harry sighed and looked at me with coldness.

"I guess I'll...see you tonight, Malfoy."

"A night with Golden Boy, be still my heart." I comment dryly. McGonagall cleared her throat and I get back onto my broom.

--------------------------------------------------

As usual, I get the snitch and my fellow Gryffindors pat me on the back.

"Stupendous job!"  
"You sure showed them!"

"You're the best Seeker a team can have!"

_Oh please, _I snorted, _isn't this a team effort? Stop congratulating me, you nincompoops._

Of course, I kept my smiles; my laughter. It was my voice that everyone heard ringing down the Gryffindor common room; it was my laughter that reached the ears of those around me at the Dinner Hall.

However, it was to no one but my own ears when I snuck away and silently walked toward Hagrid's hut, the crinkling of the dry leaves beneath my feet lulling me into a relaxed stupor. I had decided to go early, relishing my isolation.

"Potter."

I hissed to myself, part of me wanting to lash out at the disturbance, the other part of me intrigued by the familiarity.

"Malfoy. You're early."

I turn to see him. He had washed the disgusting gel from his hair and the pale strands of hair were softly blowing over his face.

I sneer to myself. Had there been moonlight, hundreds of romance authors would be furiously scribbling down fantasies of how it was "dramatically" cast upon his "angelic" features. However, there was none of that sort. The moonlight was covered with fog and naught but shadows showed upon Draco's face.

The shadows shifted and swayed, marring the flawless complexion of Draco's mask. It flared and swept across every angle of the sharply-featured Malfoy, like a snake slithering slowly across pale glass. He gazed lazily at me, one hand in his pocket as he leaned in a casual manner. He, like me, wore all black robes that billowed about him as the wind outlined his small frame.

"Find something you like?" He asked, an eyebrow raised in interest.

"You look different." I acknowledged. He ran his hand over his hair, pushing the platinum tendrils away from his face.

"What's the point in primping up when there's no one to impress?" He sneered.

"Sod off, it's obvious that you use gel to repel others from you." I hiss. His eyes widened slightly, granting me a small sense of victory.

"You should know, Potter, that I attract people no matter what I do." He drawled, "though if you insist, I admit that my hair would steal all your admirers if I let it roam free." I roll my eyes at him.

We walked on in silence, staying as far away from each other as possible. Like two magnets, we alternated between being strongly attached (in the forms of vicious bantering) and strongly repelled (through our need of isolation).

I cast occasional glances at Draco, his eyes focusing straight ahead of him, making it seem like he wanted nothing but to get the detention over with. I nearly smile to myself when I feel him glance at me as I slipped on my mask of indifference, seeming like I did not care if I had detention or not.

We arrived at Hagrid's hut and the large, burly man burst through, engulfing me in an enormous hug.

"Why Harry, what a pleasant surprise! I thought I'd be getting two slimy blokes for detention, but instead I get you!" He roared, deafening my ears.

"Ha-Hagrid, it's great to see you." I choke out. It was then Hagrid noticed Malfoy's presence, standing silently as a shadow behind me.

Hagrid regarded him silently, as if unsure of what to say. Instead, he turned around, informing us briefly that we were to go to the Forbidden Forest to collect some items he needed.

"But...the forest is dangerous! If Lu-If my _father _finds out about this-"

"Harry's quite well adapted to this forest," Hagrid interrupted as he ambled back into the hut, "I've taught him well enough. I assume he'll show you the ropes."

Draco hissed and clenched his fists, seeming to seethe in anger as he glared at the man's back. I chuckled to myself in amusement.

"The forest isn't as intimidating as it seems...although I'm not sure if you'd be Gryffindor enough to survive it." I snickered at the Slytherin.

"Oh sod off, Potter. You'll be so scared you'll soil yourself." Draco hissed back.

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow to mock the Malfoy heir, "it was you who was running off like a scared ninny last time." Another tingle of excitement flared in me as I watched the boy sputter and cough at a lost of words.

_Harry 1, Draco 0. _I laugh to myself.

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I curse my luck for the nth time as I follow Harry into the dreary mass of overgrown trees that one calls a forest.

_Breathe, you ninny._ I scold myself, _Malfoys fear nothing._

However, considering what happened in my last experience of the forest, intrepidation ran violently through my veins.

_You don't fear the Cruciatus curse, you don't fear being beaten, yet you're scared of a forest because its...mysterious?_ My conscience scolded, _Do grow up, Malfoy._

I shake my head, unconsciously scooting closer to Harry.

"Need to hold my hand, Malfoy?" He said with amusement, holding out that blasted limb towards me. I slapped him away.

"Sod off. _You _were the one who rejected my hand the first time." I snarled, "what objects do we need to find?"

"Let's see...Hagrid told us to get...one moonlight petal, a handful of darkness shrooms, a spoonful of..."

I rolled my eyes as Harry read the list that seemed to be infinite.

"How exactly are we going to find all of those items?" I snapped. Harry shrugged.

"Guess that's why it's going to take us a month to obtain?"

I hiss angrily and swallow my fear as I push Harry aside.

"I'll look for the first five items, you find the rest." I order as I stalk off to one side.

"But Draco—" Harry began.

_Draco?_

I whirl around.

"You have no right to call me that, _Harry_." I hiss as I grab the collar of his robe.

"Just as you have no right to call mine?" Harry stated. I stare at him and let go.

"That's right," I whisper, "I despise you."

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_I despise you._

"As do I."

I smile inwardly to myself as I watch Draco give me a hard glare.

"But Hagrid _did _tell us not to wander off alone—"

"What are you, a useless Hufflepuff who can't disobey orders?" Draco scoffed, "I'll meet you back here at midnight."

I gazed at his retreating back, making it known to him that I can see through his defenses. My mind wandered back to the time when he and I fell from the sky.

_Our first confession of our true identities._

I absently gathered Hagrid's required items, not paying much attention to whatever I was looking for.

We've both retreated back to our respective shells, neither of us admitting what happened up in the open sky, where birds once flew free. Glancing around quickly to make sure no one was around, I breathe out a sigh of relief.

Even the mask itself was a constant burden that lay heavy in my mind. Forgoing the mask, I took off my glasses.

I haven't needed them since last year, but it's not like I'd tell anyone. It was my symbol of the constant mask that I put upon myself. I sighed again, feeling the magic being released after taking off the spell I used every day.

My eyes began to glow the strange green glazed with gold that everyone said my mother used to have. Imagine everyone's surprise—and possibly fear—if they knew that my eyes glowed in the dark. I flicked my tongue over my sharpened canines—really, what was I, some monster? I don't know. Just...

**Different.**

My hair grew longer, some of the straight strands falling over my face. It wasn't just black hair, it was midnight black hair that gleamed a strange, contrasting chestnut brown. I washed my face in a nearby river and smiled. If McGonagall knew how much transfiguration and shapeshifting I knew, she'd faint right on the spot.

The fake tan sheen of my skin melted off, revealing a lighter, glowing complexion. I relaxed and smiled as my entire body elongated, my fingers growing longer and my nails taking a slightly sharp shape. It was evident to everyone that I was not tall; not short either. I was supposedly a normal 5'7".

...I'm really 6'2".

My slightly cherubic appearance gave away, relaxing back into the narrow, angular form that I really had. I leaned back and felt the weeds of the ground scrape across my face. I stretched my now-lanky legs and arms, wondering for the hundredth time how people would react if they saw me now. Would they be frightened? Or, like most others who saw me, would they feel desire? Merlin, if anyone knew how much my mask hid, they're definitely in for a surprise.

I stood up, not caring that my heightened senses could now hear the rabbits crawling back into their dens, my eyes watching the eyes of an owl as it stared back at me, my skin feeling the warmth from the blood of the creatures around me.

I continued gathering herbs, relaxing into the peacefulness that the night brought to me, encompassing me with the much needed coldness and darkness that it offered. I kept my senses out for Draco, making sure he would not be around to catch my true form; he knew I had a mask, but he surely did not know the fake exterior I had was in a very...literal sense.

I hissed to myself for making the mistake of calling him Draco in my conversations. It was only in my head that I dared say his name. Why or when I began calling him Draco? Simple. When I noticed his mask and realized that we were

**The same.**

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I walked quickly away from Harry, making sure that he did not follow. I realized that I did not know what items I was supposed to collect, but I really did not care. I just needed a time to shed away my mask and take the time to hide within night's embrace. True, the forest scared me, but at the same time I realized that it held a sense of comfort; a comfort where I could hide myself and no one would find me.

I slipped into a small, hidden clearing, allowing myself a rare smile as I slipped off my Malfoy ring. I gritted my teeth as I felt the familiar, dull pain burn within me as I released my illusion.

When I first experienced the changes, my mother grew very afraid. She pulled me close and told me never to mention it to Lucius. Why, I did not know, but I sense that he would have killed me or some other of the sort.

My platinum blonde hair grew and swirled softly to my back, giving me an (unfortunately) feminine look. My eyes changed from a cold silver-blue to a pure silver covered with remnants of gold. My seemingly small 5'7" body grew back to my normal 6'. I sighed in delight as I felt my teeth sharpen and clenched my fists as my nails grew, cutting softly into the flesh of my palms. My already pale skin began to glow with a luminescent sheen, one that my mother had described as "otherworldly". Apparently she knew what had happened to me, but she has yet to explain.

As I dropped to the ground, my hair draped over my shoulders, sparkling with its familiar golden sheen. I smile as I chuckle to think of Pansy's reaction towards me; she was already trying to fling herself at me, much like the rest of the student population...but with my now lanky—perhaps a bit too thin, but what do I care—and lean form, my small shoulders and pointy face with features a little too sharp yet exotic, what would they say?

I knew I looked barely human—Merlin, even my ears pointed slightly. I slipped a golden stud that my mother gave me onto my left ear and tied my hair loosely behind me with a golden rope. I idly wondered if I should cut my hair, but remembered that it grew back whenever I tried to get rid of the long strands.

Sometimes I wonder if Harry has a literal mask like mine. Probably not, since well, the chances of that happening are...indescribably low.

_Harry Potter, _I mused silently,_ what would possess you to say my name?_

_It is important that we keep ourselves distanced, our hatred towards each other deep. _

_Why?_ A breeze whispered into my mind.

Why? Why _not_? I was most certainly brought up to hate Harry with a vengeance.

_Then why call him Harry? Why not Potter?_

Simple. He shares a mask like me. No matter how much we hate each other, we share the familiarity of hiding ourselves behind a shell. With his mask, him and I are

**the same.**

I lay on the ground peacefully, lazily searching for the moon hidden behind the gray, tumbling clouds. Sighing, I felt the slight vibrations that the animals gave to the ground as they walked around, the scent of the coming rain, the sound of—what was that? Whimpering?

I shot up, scanning the ground. This was no forest animal; on the contrary it was...

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It's been the same thing for a week now. Draco and I would walk to Hagrid's hut early, receive the basket and list of things we need to obtain, then part ways until midnight. There we would check off the items that we have found (though Draco, that lazy git, didn't get nearly as many things as I did!) and we would walk back in silence.

However, there's something odd going on with Draco. He always seems nervous when parting ways, almost rushing through a familiar trail in the forest.

Is he hiding something? I've taken it upon myself to find out what that stubborn bloke is up to; surely he could not have been meeting up with spies of Voldemort...could he?

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I hastened my steps, quickly pulling out a hidden bag from my robe. The need to get to the shelter overcame my urge to break free of my mask; after all, if I could stand holding a mask this long, what harm is it if I keep it on a few minutes more?

Reaching the shelter, I look around to check for any movements. The same whimper I heard the first day caught my attention, and I pulled aside a nearby bush.

Lying there was a puppy of a mere few weeks old. Its soft downy fur glistened a pale blonde—much like my own hair—and it's dark eyes and nose gave it the perfect image of innocence. Why it was here was a mystery; it wasn't even magical. I picked it up into my lap and carefully fed it the ham that I had smuggled from dinner.

Lost in my own thoughts and care for the pooch, I failed to hear the rustling of the bushes...

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I saw it before it even came. Quick as lightning, the troll burst through a giant bush with a roar, nearly knocking off Draco's head with a club. To my relief, he had the sense to roll away, patting the—was that a puppy?—on the back and urging it to run. The poor mutt, however, tripped on its own feet and howled.

My mouth dropped in horror as the troll roared again and swung at the puppy. The puppy yelped as Draco, with quick reflexes, spun around and grabbed the mutt, earning himself a solid smack on the shoulder by the troll. He grunted and flew a few feet before landing into a tree, completely stunned with a puppy crying in his arms.

Luckily, I remembered my wand.

"_LUMOS_!" I yelled, blinding the troll with a flash of light as I grabbed Draco and ran away, the troll howling its rage as I left.

----------------------------------------------------

"The weapon was _poisoned_!" I shrieked in Madam Pomfrey's infirmary, causing her to wince.

"Calm down, Harry, I'm sure he'll be fine. He's just...not reacting to the antidote."

"WHAT!" I hollered again before Dumbledore strolled in.

"Harry, I do believe we need to talk." He said firmly.

"But Professor..."

"It's important." Albus said, raising an eyebrow at me to signify what it was about. I sighed and followed him back to his office, the puppy in my arms.

Albus Dumbledore sank into his plush seat gracefully his robes settling around him as he offered me a few lemon drops. When I declined, he then offered tea. Declining that again, he was about to offer me sandwiches, but I once again declined and asked him what he wanted to talk to me about.

"It's about your...changes this past year." He told me, stroking his beard, "I've found out that the prophecy is about to begin."

"Prophecy?" I leaned forward, "you mean the one that told me that I would meet my other half?"

"Yes, stunning memory, Harry!" Albus said proudly.

"But...what does the last part of the prophecy mean?" I whispered, "**dark encounters light, either cancelling existence or blending into dusk; destroying prophecies or completing fate**"

Dumbledore watched me with amusement, "That is for you to decide."

"But...how will I know this other person? Is this person from Hogwarts?" I insisted.

"This person, like you, has also cast an illusion over his appearance. However, unlike you, it was not made by me."

"He? My other half is a male? You know him?" I all but shrieked.

"Perhaps I know him..." Albus smiled with that eerie twinkle in his eye.

"Why can't you tell me?" I whined, the puppy whimpering in support.

"Then it wouldn't be fun now, would it?" The old man twinkled again.

"AAAAARGH!"

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I sat next to Draco's bed, pondering over Dumbledore's latest revelation.

_So my other half is obviously not going to be my future lover, since he's a bloke. What else...he's most likely from Hogwarts, meaning I must know him. Hmm, he's got an illusion on like me, but I won't be able to tell because the illusion was not made by Dumbledore! How am I supposed to find this person!_

As if on cue, the boy next to me groaned.

"Dra-Malfoy, you up?" I said as I glanced over at the pale blonde beside me.

"...Sod off, Potter." He gritted as he turned over to his side. Madam Pomfrey rushed in, exclaiming that Draco needs to stop moving.

"Really, Mr. Malfoy, I wonder what has gotten into your system; the poison just isn't flushing out!" She scolded him as she forced some strange potion into him, "and how you got to this stage is a mystery in the first place."

"He protected this puppy against a troll." I muttered to myself, my eyes widening at the though.

_Draco protects puppies?_

Madam Pomfrey clucked her teeth as she scooped the dog from my arms.

"So this is the little rascal who started it all eh?" She gently dropped it into Draco's lap, where the puppy curled up and seemed to fall asleep. Giving me one last check up, she told me to go back to class.

"He'll be fine, Harry. The poison isn't lethal; it's just going to give him some headaches and stomach pains."

I nodded and as Madam Pomfrey left, I looked over Draco one last time.

"You know, most antidotes don't work on me either," I began, "I wonder why you—Malfoy?"

The Slytherin had fallen asleep again, one hand lazily resting on the puppy as he breathed in a rhythmic tone.

It was then I took notice of his appearance; he almost shimmered, his pale blonde hair falling gracefully down his face—wonder if he'd ever grow it long—and his pale skin slightly ashen from the poison...my eyes then rested on his ring.

_Funny, I've never noticed it before._

I picked up Draco's hand, looking at the strange ring with the Malfoy signature. It was a brilliant pale gold with a glowing emerald on the inside. Of course, it had a golden _M_ in the middle. However, there were also some light scribblings on the side of the ring. Without knowing, I had gotten my hands on it and was about to take it out when—

"Potter, as much as you fancy me, let go of my hand." A voice snapped, forcing me to drop his arm. He held it to himself almost protectively.

"I never knew you swung that way." He continued to drawl as my ears flushed in embarrassment.

"I was just trying to see your ring." I pointed out.

"My what?" He stared at me suspiciously, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me! It's right _there _you slimy bloke!" I insisted, pointing to his ring which was _clearly _on his finger. Draco seemed to freeze, looking at me with his mouth gaping open like a fish.

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_How had he known? How can he see it?_ My mind raced furiously as I gaped at him.

"Stop being stupid, Malfoy. You look like a fish out of the water." The voice snapped at me. I shut my mouth.

"Wha-What about my ring?" I drawled, covering up the traces of my stuttering with an arrogant toss of my head.

Well, that didn't help my headache much. I hissed as my head flared with pain and fell into Harry.

My eyes shot wide open again. Funny, my headache is gone. And so are all effects of that blasted poison that were running willy-nilly through my veins earlier.

"Potter...?" I choked.

"What?" He snapped again, traces of worry lining his gold-covered eyes.

_Step back, Malfoy, you're going crazy. Potter has completely green eyes!_

I blinked. You're right, they're just...green.

"What did you do?" I ask him curiously. His eyebrows creased in frustration.

"I grabbed you when you fell! What...did you _want _me to let you fall or something?" He started ranting.

"Oh stop being such an emotional git!" I snapped back, "You cured my poison!"

Harry blinked.

"What are you spewing? It was the antidote that Madam Pomfrey gave you." He said hesitantly.

"I'm _immune_ to antidotes, you foo—" I stopped, clasping my hands over my mouth.

"_Draco dear, you must not tell anyone of your circumstances." My mother whispered to me, "it can be...detrimental on your life."_

"_Yes, mother." My younger self nodded, "I understand."_

"_Until you find your other half, you are in danger of all poisons and we cannot have anyone using that to their advantage." She whispered again, "don't tell anyone your secret. Promise me."_

_...Oops._

"You're _what?_" Potter stared at me incredulously. Funny how I start calling him Potter again when I'm panicking.

"Nothing!" I snapped.

"How are you feeling, Dra—Oh!" A gasp came from behind us.

Madam Pomfrey was staring at us, a slight blush tingeing her rosy cheeks as she clasped the potion she was holding against her.

I looked at Potter...and realized just exactly how close I was to him.

"For Merlin's sake, what are you doing Potter!" I hissed at him, pushing myself off of him in a haste, "if I had known you would fancy me to such an extent..."

"Don't flatter yourself!" Harry hissed, "With the way you were over _me_, one would think _you_ were the one trying to get into _my_ britches!"

"Boys, boys!" Madam Pomfrey shouted, her face flushing red again, "As much as you two would like to argue, Draco's still poisoned!"

"I'm perfectly fine now." I said sourly, giving Harry the same glare he was giving me.

"Really? Dumbledore said it wasn't likely..."

My ears perked upon the mention of Dumbledore.

_How would that old bat know...? Does he know my secret?_

I felt Harry stiffen by my bed.

_Does Harry know something that I don't?_

-------------------------------------------------------------------

_Dumbledore knows._

I vaguely remembered a flash of gold flicker through Draco's eyes when I caught him. I also felt a strange heaviness in my head fly away when I felt his body land on mine. Funny how I was thinking of just letting him fall, but my blasted "Gryffindor" nobility caught him by reflex...I think. No, I'm sure!

And besides, the only person with gold eyes is me—and my other half.

_My other half?_

"_You are special Harry," Dumbledore began, "included in countless prophecies...which would only come true if you fulfill the earliest one."_

"_What do you mean, Professor?" _

"_You were born incomplete." Albus continued, "as the light or the dark, I do not know. However, the other half of you is somewhere in this world, and to complete the prophecy is to find this person."_

"_How do I know who my other half is?"_

_Dumbledore turned to me, an odd twinkle in his eyes._

"_You two share similarities that none other would have and powers that come into effect through contact with each other."_

"_So if someone looks like me, I'll know?"_

"_No, Harry, you'll feel."_

I shook my head, clearing my memory.

Surely if anyone, my other half would not be Draco Malfoy! He doesn't look a bit like me anyway!

"What are you doing here anyway? Trying to gloat over my demise?" A voice hissed at me.

"No, but now that you mention it, that's a brilliant idea." I snap back sarcastically.

I continue watching as Madam Pomfrey gave Draco one last checkup before stepping back satisfied. Draco reached out a pale hand, gently stroking the sleeping dog on his lap, a trace of...gentility etched onto his features. No, not gentility...a sad sort of grief and even guilt.

"I didn't know you had a heart." I stated. Draco looked up with surprise, but he narrowed his eyes defensively when I pointed at the mutt.

"What do you want me to say to that, Potter? Deny it and enforce my crown as the Slytherin Ice Prince? Or confirm it and make myself look like a soft ninny Gryffindor?" He replied coldly.

"You have guilt etched across your face." I said simply. I noticed Draco stiffen, his face full of shock.

It wasn't everyday that Harry Potter makes a good observation—I made sure that didn't show up through my mask.

Draco looked down, random pieces of hair falling down his face.

"Call it...redemption?" He murmured, continuing to stroke the puppy.

I looked at him intently as his mask cracked slightly.

"Lucius—My father—wanted to test my obedience...to see if I would betray him or not! He pointed at a lone stray dog on the streets, one that I used to care for and feed, and he told me to drown it with my wand." He kept his voice strangely calm, almost _too_ controlled to be human, "I...at an age of ten...I obeyed and-"

"You don't have to continue." I said softly, but he continued on.

"It was the hardest thing I've ever done! The look of desperation on the animal's face...it was my companion! And I was forced to-" The boy began to talk faster, his calm voice growing more agitated as his hands flailed in the air to emphasize his actions. I caught one of his hands in my own, making him look at me with startled eyes.

"You don't have to keep that mask up with me; I can see right through it." I murmured.

Draco glanced at me with wide eyes, as if determining what to do. Finally, he set his mouth into a scowl and yanked free from my grasp.

"I don't know what you're talking about. In fact, why I'm telling you my sob story is a mystery to me, since we hate each other so much anway."

"I don't hate you." I said softly, "There's no reason to—"

"Of course you hate me!" He exploded, "I've heckled you for over six years! Don't be such a Gryffindor and just distance yourself from me!"

I sat back, stunned. The force of Draco's words made it seem like he was almost...scared of becoming my friend. I decided not to say anything to him, nodding my head bluntly. We looked at each other for a few more minutes until I stood up and complied to his wishes; I left.

-------------------------------------------------

I glared into his back as he left, making it known to him how much I despised him.

_I hate him. _I scowled, _I absolutely despise that boy._

I had to. It wasn't an option; tools don't look for friends.

And as a tool, I can do nothing but hate and distance myself from those who can surface my emotions. Why did Harry invoke such emotions in me anyway? I idly twirled the Illusion ring on my finger. How did he see my ring, even after all those concealment spells I placed on it? And that flash of gold...

No, he cannot be my 'other half'. I refuse to believe it.

I sighed and gently picked up the puppy. I needed a place to keep the poor thing since I wasn't about to abandon it in the forest again. The troll almost ate it last time! Brushing a few strands from my face, my thoughts wandered again to Harry.

_I hate you, Harry. I never want to be your friend. Merlin, I don't want to be your **anything**_.

..._Do I?

* * *

_

**AN: **Wewt, 19 pages of introductory goodness! Yarr, my hand was itching to speed things up and make Harry jump Draco or something T.T But no, I'm trying to make this an epic-ish sort of ficcie (unlike my usual stories), unless I decide to make a sequel (which is also likely). This is probably going to be a story of Harry/Draco and their prophecy, as well as how the reactions of family/students/faculty of their blooming relationship. The sequel (if there is one) will focus on completing the prophecy, Draco/Harry's new powers together, and defeating Voldemort. Lots of angst (because I can't write anything but D: ) and...I'll try not to make things seem to go too quickly—once again, please tell me if you feel things are moving too fast, I just can't wait sometimes XD

**PS: **The lyrics in the beginning are by Lene Marlin (song is called _Disguise_). She's a wonderful singer with beautiful lyrics, please listen to some of her songs!

**Next Chapter: **Harry and Draco find themselves thinking of the other and of their masks, and they start talking more openly to each other during their detention. However, Draco refuses to get close to Harry, provoking poor Potter with an even more intense passion. How will Harry react? What sparks (if any) arise?

**Last comment:** Feel free to review, they keep me alive :)


	2. The Awakening

**AN:** Wee, I'm typing this in my hotel right now…Yuppers, I'm on vacation (more like college dorm-visitings), BUT I can't stop the barrage of ideas going on through my head on this ficcie so…time to type! YARRR!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, Harry would be jumping Draco like a madman right now :3

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco hide behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

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Masquerade – The Awakening

* * *

I glance at Harry for the hundredth time as I watch him pick at his eggs. Granted, he's been picking at them for weeks now, but today he's picking at them with a kicked-puppy look on his face.

"All right, Harry, what's wrong?" I say loudly, turning over to the boy. He looks at me and smiles.

"What do you mean, Hermione? I'm fine."

"You're poking at your eggs." I state, plucking the fork from Harry's slender fingers and placing it gently on the table.

"I always poke at my eggs." He says defensively, giving me a confused look. I roll my eyes.

"Harry, I know you better than anyone. It's obvious something's wrong when you do that—Harry? Are you listening?" I notice Harry stiffen and I follow his solemn gaze across the tables of the Dining Hall.

_Draco Malfoy._

"What'd he do this time? Did he say something horrid during detention?" I ask. Harry turned to me, another smile placed upon his face.

"Nothing, I just noticed that he came late."

He turns back to gazing at Malfoy and I, being the concerned friend I am, look over to the Slytherin table.

I must tell you, as a girl in her ripest age of eighteen, I get thoughts that most other females my age get; I think of beauty and love and dark, handsome strangers in alleyways. However, unlike most girls (think Lavender and Parvati), I merely acknowledge and respect one's beauty instead of lusting after it. So please, don't think me strange when I say:

_Draco Malfoy is gorgeous._

Words can't even explain what happened to him during these seven years. Gone went the short little brat with the conceited look on his face, in came the still-somewhat-short yet lean sex god with the "I'm too cool to show emotions" attitude.

What can I say? Girls dig that look.

I've seen girls use their wands and melt themselves in his presence. By Merlin's boots, he could have easily gotten all of the female population (and some of the males) stalking him if he didn't insult people so much.

_Note that I said "could have"._

Why? Because Harry's got the rest of the population after him. Harry doesn't know it (AN: Oh yes he does…), but he's also went from the scruffy, adorable Boy-Who-Lived to the dark, scrumptious, Boy-Who-I-Want-In-My-Bed.

In fact, if he lost the rest of that chubbiness on his face, he'd take the girls from Draco hands down.

_Although Draco's always going to have more guys lusting after him than Harry, _I snickered slightly to myself, _if he grew out his hair he'd look like a pretty chick from the back._

"Hermione?" A voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Yes, Ron?"

"You must really like the breakfast today, you're drooling."

"Umm…"

_SQRUEEAK!_

Ron and I lifted our heads abruptly as Harry stood up.

"I think I'll go to class early today. Remember the last time Snape insisted I was late and forced me to sit with the Slytherins?" Harry said jokingly.

"Argh! Snape, that jerk! You were _obviously_ on time too!" Ron joined in.

I said nothing as we all stood up and exited the Dining Hall.

_Coincidentally_, our little Slytherin friend happened to exit the hall at the same time, bumping into Harry.

They stared at each other, neither one saying a word. I sensed the tension between them, making my toes curl. Did something go wrong during detention?

As Malfoy stepped closer to Harry I suddenly noticed how the Slytherin's pale hair contrasted drastically with Harry's mop of darkness, the stark difference forming a surreal glow around the two. Also, the Slytherin's delicate features complimented Harry's defined ones, making the two together almost…otherworldly. My breath hitched and I flushed. Seeing the school's two hottest sex gods face to face like statues were enough to make _anyone_ drop dead. Even Ron seemed to be in a daze, his cheeks glowing slightly pink as he watched the two. Finally, Malfoy broke the ice:

"Get out of my face, Potter." He snipped.

"Is that all you can say, Malfoy? I thought you made better insults than that." Harry argued back.

"By Morgana's wand, do you plan on making my life a living hell? Out of the way, Potter, I've got things to do, unlike the rest of you." Draco barked, his eyes raging with frustration.

_Frustration?_

Harry tensed.

"Like what? Making friends? Good luck with that." Harry snapped, making Draco stiffen in return. Ron and I looked at each other. Apparently the two were bickering about some inside argument.

Draco shifted his robe nervously, his fingers gripping the fabric spastically.

"If you were as _kind_ as everyone says you are, you'd let me through." Draco growled, his jaws clenched together.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked; he was genuinely confused.

Draco leaned in close, whispering something that sounded strangely like "_Lucifer_" to Harry. I noticed Harry's eyes widen, nodding in understanding at Draco before the pale boy shouldered past him angrily, rushing quickly towards the Slytherin wing.

"What was that about?" Ron asked Harry, "you just let him win the battle!"

Harry turned to Ron, laughing slightly, "I forgot Snape asked him to do something."

"Like you ever cared what _Snape_ wanted." Ron said in disgust. Harry laughed again, patting Ron sympathetically on the back.

I reviewed his conversation with Malfoy in my head. Something just didn't seem right…

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I raced down to the Slytherin dungeon, hopping the stairs two steps at a time as I rushed to my room.

_Good thing the head boy gets his own room._ I thought to myself as I mumbled the password and squeezed into my spacious home for the year.

A small lump disturbed the elegant scenery of emerald and silver, casting a dark shadow over the silken fabric of the lone bed that stood against wall.

"Lucifer…breakfast is here." I sang softly. The lump whimpered, a small nose poking from the blanket.

I picked up the puppy, setting him onto the table in the center of the room. It blinked lazily at me, paws sliding on the rich mahogany.

"Hurry and eat, you lazy git. I had to leave breakfast early to smuggle yours." I chided at the dog, setting some bacon onto the table. I sighed.

_What was that about no feelings?_ My reflection scolded me across the wall, _Or does 'affection' not count?_

"Shut your bloody mouth" I snapped at myself, "I just feel somewhat…guilty."

_Poor Draco Malfoy needs forgiveness? Tools are used and thrown away, what use is redemption?_

I clenched my hands, staring as the blue-green veins of my hand jut out slightly from the pale skin.

_The perfect, stoic head boy going to break me again? I can still see the scabs on your hands from the last time you broke me._ The reflection scoffed.

I said nothing, carefully watching the dog eat its meal. As I pet it on the head, I began to wonder. Would having friends be okay? Besides, Harry doesn't hate me…I stopped that thought. The mirror was right.

_Having friends will cause trouble. What if you had to kill one of them when you became a Deatheater? As for Harry, everyone from Lucius to Voldemort hates his guts; you'll be sent to kill him eventually._

Harry Potter. No, Harry. Everything always revolves around him.

My eyes started to sting at the thought, and I furiously blinked back the burn. Why was I rethinking these things? I already knew I had to keep my indifference.

I snarled in disgust at myself as I ran back down to Potions, my reflection cackling after me as I left it hanging on the wall. I heard the remnants of its laughter, thick against my ears as it shrieked again. I shut my eyes tightly and ran on.

_I hate my life._

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The Golden Trio sat in the empty classroom, each staring at each other.

"Wow, we're early." The boy with brown hair remarked.

"No kidding, not even Professor Snape is here yet!" The red head exclaimed.

"I know you wanted to come early, Harry, but isn't this a bit…too early?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I didn't think it was _that_ early!" Harry protested. Suddenly, Ron froze.

"What's the matter?" Hermione questioned.

"I forgot my Potions book! Snape's going to deduct all of Gryffindor's points if he finds out!" Ron exclaimed; completely distraught, "We have time; let me go get it quickly!"

He rushed out of the door, only to crash and sprawl onto the floor.

"You pissing, left-footed ogre! Have you no bloody eyes!" A voice grumbled angrily.

"Malfoy!" Hermione cried out as she and Harry ran over to help Ron get up.

"Pity. The Weasel's too weak to get up after a little run in?" Draco continued to drawl, casually brushing imaginary dust off his petite shoulders.

"You arrogant brat! Don't get all conceited just because Harry gave you some slack before." Ron furiously snapped back. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"So he finally recognized my power and bowed down to me. Now how about you?"

"Hey-" Harry began to protest.

"Harry was just pitying you by showing kindness before you become a future Deatheater!" Ron shouted. Draco stood still for a moment, not saying a word. No emotion leaked from him and his face remained a careful, blank mask.

"So what if I become a Deatheater?" Draco suddenly spoke as he leaned back on the doorframe and inspected his nails.

"You…you just admitted to being a Deatheater!" Hermione squeaked.

"I admit nothing." Malfoy snapped, "I merely questioned the Weasel and you Mudbloods get all pale-faced."

"Stop calling Hermione that!" Ron snarled, "You-Know-Who's just going to use you and throw you away, then you'll be regretting what you say!"

...Then everyone froze at the sudden noise that came after Ron's statement. It was a shrill, almost spontaneous din that rang throughout the room, hollow and ominous as a Dementor's cry.

_**Draco Malfoy was laughing.**_

"Do you honestly think I care…" Draco began, wiping tears from his eyes, "what happens to me?" He gazed into the eyes of his three enemies, challenging their glares with his own. He smirked.

"I suppose it's expected. A pureblood is always more courageous and willing to die for his cause compared to Mudbloods and Mudblood-lovers."

"Ron! Malfoy! You're making a scene!" Harry desperately cried out, "Just let it go."

Draco glared at Harry silently before passing him.

"You're just a tool for a lost cause, Malfoy." Ron continued, "just like how your mother was a tool to your father by giving birth to you."

Draco stopped and whipped around, eyes dilating slightly.

"What did you say?" He growled threateningly.

"I said: your mother is a complete tool, just like youl." Ron challenged, gazing into Draco's malicious glare. With a sudden snarl, Draco leapt upon Weasley, grabbing his shirt and giving him a hard punch. In return, Ron tried retaliate; However, with inhuman speed, Draco dodged and harshly rammed Ron into the wall. Ron gasped as his head hit the wall, speckles of white and red stunning him slightly before pushing himself off and falling onto the floor with the Slytherin.

Ignoring Hermione and Harry's shouts to cease fire, the pair rolled around before Draco hissed and straddled the red head. He lifted Ron and shook him harshly before slamming him against the floor repeatedly.

"Don't you _ever_ speak bad of my mother, you pissing, shagging, mudblood-loving, cheap, bloody fiend." He swore as he placed his slender hands on Ron's neck, squeezing harshly and cutting off the red head's air supply. Ron began to choke, his face growing red.

"Merlin's sake, Ron!" Harry panicked. He put a hand on Draco's shoulder, trying to pry the pale boy off his best friend. In a flash, Draco snarled, leaping up and throwing a fist at Harry. Then, the impossible happened:

With equal velocity, Harry blocked Draco's punch.

Gold flashed angrily at gold, both widening in shock. Draco blinked furiously, quickly dropping his gaze. As Hermione helped Ron up, he gasped and coughed, blood dripping down his lips. Draco looked down at Ron in disgust before gazing back up at Harry.

Seething Silver-blue pierced into cool, innocent green.

"Potter, I don't appreciate someone interfering with my duel, even if it _is_ with a bloody coward." The Slytherin hissed, "if you want your own duel, perhaps we can set a time during detention."

_And I have some things I need to discuss with you. _A general whisper reached both their minds.

As Malfoy slowly made his way to his seat, Ron choked:

"I couldn't even see him attack."

Draco stood with his back towards the three, reflexively pushing an agitated hand through his gelled hair. Harry patted his friend on the back, staring at Malfoy with a peculiar expression on his face.

"I know, Ron, I know."

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Snape's class began with tense emotions, starting with Ron whining about his bruised face and lips. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that Ron's robes were also shredded. In fact, he even had what appeared to be deep scratches and claw marks on his neck and wounds.

"I've never seen Malfoy fight like that, do you think he took some velocity-up potion or something?" Ron whispered to me, holding a handkerchief to his lip.

"You've never seen Malfoy that angry, either." I quipped back, Ron grimacing in pain as he hit a bruise.

"But Hermione, _no one_ can attack like that! It's almost…inhuman."

"Apparently Harry can, because he stopped Malfoy's attack." I said again, sighing as Ron yelped at another cut.

However, it didn't make sense. Draco Malfoy really _was_ a whirlwind of ferocity in that battle. In fact, Ron was right; no real human being can fight like that. Malfoy had an incredibly high amount of speed and power, and he was snarling like an animal. I didn't even see him get off Ron to attack Harry, but all the same; Harry had blocked the attack with stunning confidence and ease.

I absently tapped a pencil on my chin as I pondered some more. When Harry stopped the attack, both of them seemed mildly surprised. It could have been my imagination, but for the slightest second, Malfoy and Harry were _glowing._ Not only that, but they looked slightly different; they seemed to be mutating or shifting, and their eyes flashed a light gold. Then again, I was so busy helping Ron I must have seen things. Coincidence? Surely not!

"...Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy." Professor Snape's bored voice droned through my brain.

"Y-yes?" I squeaked, earning myself snickers from the Slytherin side.

"I said, you were to be paired up with Malfoy for the lab." Snape snapped, "five points from Gryffindor for making me repeat myself."

I groaned, getting points deducted _and_ being paired up with Malfoy? However, this _does_ give me a fine time to observe the mysterious Slytherin...

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I handed Granger the necessary ingredients and prepared to do my part of the job, but I stopped. Hermione Granger was, for once, staring at the ingredients blankly.

"The bloody Weasel was the one who got his brain punched out, not you." I snapped, "didn't you hear Professor Snape explaining the disillusionment potion?"

Granger blinked, her eyes lighting in recognition.

"Oh! The potion that causes all illusion and concealment spells to cancel when splashed across the object!" She said suddenly, "good thing I read about that yesterday…"

I raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing Granger as she squirmed under my gaze.

"Since when does Hermione Granger not listen in class?"

"I had things on my mind!" The girl protested before blushing slightly, "do you know why we were paired together? Professor Snape should know better than to pair Gryffindors and Slytherins."

"He's not. He's pairing everyone by their rank in class." I sighed impatiently, "now can we get to work? I'd like to limit my contact with Mudbloods"

The girl flushed angrily, clamping her mouth shut tightly as she began mixing chemicals. I nodded in approval and got to work. For this advanced potion, I will be needing five strips of toad skin, three eyes of newt, a spoonful of giant squid slime…

"Are you okay? You're trembling." Granger interrupted my thoughts. I was about to snap at her, raising my hands slightly in frustration. Then I stopped breathing; _Why am I shaking?_

**_Gold angrily flashed against gold_.**

_How did he block me? I was even beginning to transform…_I shivered silently. _No one is able to even see me when I start getting serious…_

I narrowed my eyes at the dreamsee herb, hacking at its leaves with sudden determination.

_And I could've sworn Harry's eyes were gold._

"Malfoy?" A voice broke into my thoughts again.

"If you fancy calling my name so much, you'll have to get in line." I snarled, turning to her. She ignored my remark and instead pointed at my pile of chopped leaves, which were currently bleeding red.

_Bleeding?_

I swore, holding up my finger. Hermione sighed—she had been doing that a lot of lately—and leaned over, wrapping her handkerchief around my wounded hand. She must have noticed me gawking at her, because she shook her head, saying:

"Oh don't look at me like an open-mouthed ninny, I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need help." I grumbled. The girl smiled in response,

"Malfoy, as head girl I help _everyone_. So don't think you get special attention."

"As head _boy_, I don't do that." I snapped back. She rolled her eyes, going back to her work.

As I started _carefully_ cutting the toad skins, I snuck a glance at Granger. Hermione Granger was currently putting all her attention on stirring the pot clockwise. She leaned towards the pot to check the temperature, her long, wavy hair drifting perilously close to the pot—

"Be careful!" I hissed, roughly pulling the girl backwards. She shrieked, causing people around us to stare (and the blasted Weasel to glare).

"Can't you stop being a bloody lazy troll for once? Until the dreamsee leaves are added, the potion is a Flaming Potion; it burns and consumes everything it touches." I snapped, using hand gestures to describe just how burnt—and dead—Granger would have been if I had not been there. She turned red, apologizing profusely before tying her hair back with a hair band from her wrist.

As we worked in silence again, she turned to me.

"Why didn't you let me burn myself?."  
"What are you talking about?" I grumbled.

"I'm muggle-born; you could have had the pleasure of letting a muggle die a horrendous death without being charged for murder."

"I'll keep that in mind next time, since you seem to want to die so much." I said defensively.

Granger merely gave me a weird smile, like she knew something that I don't. And much to my chagrin, she's right.

She knew something that I didn't want to admit.

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I cautiously watched Hermione interact with Draco. Ron was convinced that Draco had tried to dunk her in the incomplete potion, causing her to scream. However, by the weird grins Hermione was sending the Slytherin, it seemed to contradict the red head's words.

"I never knew Hermione and Malfoy got along." I whispered to Blaise, a Slytherin boy that didn't seem to hold as much hate for me as his other Slytherin roommates.

"Malfoy gets along with no one." Blaise shrugged, a look of concentration on his face as he carefully gutted his newt, "he likes to keep his distance."

"Ha! That pissing bloke likes distance? Surely he doesn't keep his distance with women," Ron sneered while crinkling his nose in disgust, "just look at the dozens of girls that flock around him! I bet every night—Ow! Bloody hell, Pansy!"

Pansy glared at Ron as he tried to rub the sting of her slap away from the back of his head.

"Don't you _ever_ talk about Draco like that," She hissed.

"What? Just because you've slept with him—Ow! Stop that!"

"You just don't understand what I mean when I say distance, don't you?" Blaise snarled as he turned around to look at Ron.

"He pushes _everyone_ away; even us." Pansy sniffed. Ron cast her a disbelieving look before realization dawned upon his face.

"What! You mean Draco Malfoy is a bloody _virgin_!" He shouted in amazement.

Silence spread around the room, Hermione spinning around to gape at Ron as she elbowed her finished product, causing it to teeter dangerously off the edge of the table. Draco lunged for the potion in order to save it from meeting its end on the floor and a good chunk of the liquid splashed onto his hand. He hissed slightly, quickly setting the potion back in place.

All of the sudden, the disillusionment potion took effect and the entire class was blinded temporarily. I squinted; my eyes are more sensitive to light than the rest of the students. However, I managed to catch a glimpse of long, slender fingers with slightly sharpened nails. The ring on its fingers glistened and sparkled more than ever, its emerald facets shimmering in a dazzling array of pure green around the room.

The wrist that the heavenly hand was attached to seemed to be incredibly smooth; it was pale as the moon and flawless as new china, gracefully drawing back as its fingers ghosted across the surface of the potion bottle, only to elegantly retreat into its long sleeves.

Then as quickly as it happened, the light faded with Draco gasping and running out of the room. His hand was hidden inside his robe as he clutched it almost painfully. Almost immediately upon his exit, the once silence turned into a frenzied chaos. Students murmured to each other of what went had happened, some suggesting that Draco's potion had not come out right and he had to rush to Madam Pomfrey while others pondered aloud that Draco was merely embarrassed at Ron's earlier remark.

No one suggested anything about a prophecy. Nobody even thought that Draco might actually have been under an illusion.

...But Harry knew.

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"That was a rather strange class." I remarked amiably as I walked my two friends out the door of Snape's room.

"Strange? It was great! Did you see the look on Malfoy's face when he ran out of the room? Malfoy the _virgin_!" Ron gasped in laughter.

"If my memory is correct, I would say that we're _all_ virgins." Hermione said flatly, giving Ron an angry look, "and there is _absolutely_ nothing wrong with that."

"But Hermione!" Ron squawked, "this is _Draco Malfoy_ we are talking about! He's not _supposed _to have that 'I'm a pure Gryffindor' status!"

"When have you started siding with Malfoy anyway?" I added cautiously to Hermione. I noticed her cheeks redden and another one of her secret smiles lit across her face—the girl knew something didn't.

"I just realized that Draco Malfoy isn't such a bad bloke anymore." She said simply, raising an eyebrow when Ron squawked and looked at her with wide eyes.

"Did you see what he did to me just a few hours ago!" He all but shrieked, "Look at me!" Ron pulled at his torn robes, revealing long scratches. My mask grinning along with Hermione at a disgruntled Ron, I grimly noted to myself that Draco must have had elongated, sharpened nails to cause such damage.

But Draco did not have long nails. I observed it when he was inspecting his hand earlier in the morning. Unfortunately, this only served to confirm my raised suspicions.

"Harry? You still alive there?" A hand waved quickly in front of my face.

_**Gold flashed angrily at gold.**_

Could he really be my other half? I'm sure that no one other than me and my half would have reflexes such as that. However, if he is indeed my other half—

I angrily pushed at the object being shoved into my face.

"Ow! Mordred's ruins, that's the third time I've been assaulted on my head today!" Ron squealed. As he muttered about his miserable luck, I gazed at the slightly reddened marks that my hand had left upon the boy's face.

My other half would, as Dumbledore said, have an appearance similar to mine and hide it in an illusion. Draco had nails like mine and from what the Disillusionment potion did...Could it really be?

I let out a silent, bitter laugh.

_So my other half turns out to be neither my love nor my companion, but my worst enemy. _

And here I was hoping that the prophecy would turn out to be one of those common-yet-ridiculous 'I love you, my-eternal-mate-whom-I-barely-know-but-have-a-sudden-urge-to-ravish' stories. What a load of blasted, hyphen-filled nonsense.

"Hermione, we are _not_ going to talk about Malfoy anymore. It's making me sick." Ron finally said, throwing his arms up in frustration.

"Oh all right, you bloody oaf." Hermione teased, "but really, if he didn't try to distance himself so much, he'd actually be a great friend."

I laughed as Ron groaned and buried his head in his hands.

There's a lot that needs to be discussed with a certain Slytherin tonight...

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The moon had just risen in the clear, night sky as two boys walked quietly through the forest, each handing the other a list of ingredients that needed to be found. However, as the paler of the two began to quickly walk off, the brunette grabbed onto his wrist, forcing him to stay.

"The only physical contact I want of you is of your lips on my shoes while you grovel at my feet." The blonde snarled, trying to shake his hand free. I held on tightly, pursing my lips.

"Draco, we need to talk."

He stilled, gazing at me with frosty eyes; eyes that misted the windows to his emotions, eternal winter chilling his exterior.

"I told you not to call me by my name."

"Bite me." I retorted, "or you can call me Harry."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Well, _Harry_, what do you want?"

"I know what you are." I told him, silently accusing him without proof, blindly trusting my instincts. I let out a mental sigh of relief when he stared at me in shock. He quickly shifted back into a perfect picture of arrogance as he slowly drawled,

"Why, _Harry,_ everyone knows what I am—the most handsome, stunning, charming, rich, powerful Slytherin Prince, of course."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed his ring. As soon as I touched the metal, the boy let out a panicked gasp, jerking his hand abruptly from my grip. He clutched his arm to his chest as if burnt, looking at me with wide, vulnerable eyes; he was a deer trapped in front of the headlights of a Muggle car. I took his time of weakness and stepped closer.

"Don't worry. I'm the same as you." I assured.

"What are you talking about?" Draco snapped.

"Take off your illusion." I murmured slightly, edging closer to the trembling boy, "I won't think of you strangely."

"Bu-Bugger off!" Draco desperately shouted, "why should I care what you think of me?"

"You care what I am to you." I whispered, bringing my face closer to his in a show of superiority, "it's unbelievable that you would not think twice about your other half."

"Go dig yourself a hole and die in it!" Draco hissed.

I've never seen the normally cool and collected Slytherin so vulnerable and shaken up. Emotions ran freely around his body; his face contorted into the mixture of emotions. His muscles were tensed in shock, his mouth trembling in terror, and his eyes wide with...Denial?

I stepped closer, my face inches away.

"Show yourself to me, Draco."

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I stared into the emerald orbs, now glowing with an intensity so bright that it seemed to light up my mind, illuminating and revealing all of my innermost secrets and desires. It beckoned to me, calling me with its hypnotic gaze as a soft voice murmured into my ears.

"Show yourself to me, Draco."

_A beautiful woman protectively huddled against her son, a look of concern and desperation evident on her face as she whispered,_

"_I found out who your other half may be."_

"_Mother, that's brilliant! Now I don't have to fear being poisoned anymore!"_

"_No, darling, it's worse than that." The woman pulled back, looking intently into her son's puzzled eyes, "you will never want this other half."_

"_Why, mother?"_

"_**Dark encounters light, either cancelling existence or blending into dusk; destroying prophecies or completing fate. Your encounter with your other half will most likely result in utter destruction."**_

"_Who is my other half?"_

"_You'd regret knowing if you ever found out, dear." Narcissa Malfoy whispered to her son, clutching him to her once again, "and your father will never forgive you."_

A hand reached over and gently grasped mine. It slid slowly across my wrist, traced down my palms, and brushed against my fingers. It slowly clasped the ring upon my hand, pulling the metal away from my flesh.

I then remembered the enraged face of Lucius when I was caught conversing with a Mudblood. I even remember, with gruesome clarity, how he had slowly tortured the boy until he lay melted—literally—at his feet. After the boy's death, he turned to me with his ever-calm eyes, casting the Cruciatus curse upon me until I lay trembling in submission at his feet.

"_This is your only warning, Draco."_ He had solemnly said, "_I will not forgive your conversing with the enemy another time. You know what will happen if I catch you again."_

After, he lazily waved his wand over the puddle of goop, walking away as I slowly crawled towards what had remained of my friend. I stared with utter mortification into the murky liquid, wishing it alive again. Instead, I saw my reflection laced with horror and grief, before transforming into panic as a pair of eyes floated to the surface. The pair stared into my eyes, silently whispering; staring at me with contempt. It hissed at me and accused me of horrors that I had not done:

"_It's all your fault."_

"NOOOOOOOOO!" I shrieked, pushing the boy away from me with whatever strength I had managed to recover. I stumbled back, panting in terror as I gripped the ring upon my finger. I heard a slight gasp and I raised my head just in time to watch a body trip and tumble down a small slope. Time slowed as the body fell, its eyes widening at the depth of the ravine that it was falling into...

_Harry!_

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Draco suddenly snapped, his eyes widening in a frenzy as he harshly pushed me away. He stumbled back, shutting his eyes tightly. I also stumbled over his sudden force, tripping over a crack and slipping. As I fell through the dip in the earth, I remember seeing Draco's head snap up, gazing at me in horror as I began to drop like a stone down an endless crevice.

**Blackness.**

When I came to, I realized that I was dangling perilously off the ravine. In fact, right below me was a shallow, yet fatal pit of jagged spikes and rocks formed over time. A dusty hand gripped my wrist painfully, and I looked up in surprise.

The Slytherin had managed to come to his senses, his pale arm trembling under my weight as he peered over the edge. He pulled me up in silence, with the occasional grunt or gasp from both parties. When I was safely back on solid ground, Draco brushed himself off, wincing as he patted at his arms and legs.

His robes were bloodied, a thin, fresh trail of blood lying near the crevice of which I had almost met my death. My eyes widened when I realized that he had allowed himself to slide across sharp pebbles and harsh wood in order to grab my hand; the boy was bleeding severely at the knees and arms.

"Can you stand?" I ask cautiously as the blonde grunted affirmative. However, his knees buckled under him as he tried to stand. I caught him effortlessly, slinging his arm over my shoulder. The wounds ceased to bleed almost immediately upon contact, instead opting to scab and fade into a mottled bruise. Draco's eyes widened and he pushed me away again. There we stood, a few feet apart, facing each other in calm uncertainty, the wind blowing mournfully through our hair.

"I thought you wanted me to die." I stated simply. The boy, now strangely quiet, looked away. "Isn't it obvious we're each other's halves? Why must you deny it?"

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Why must I deny it? I'm a coward.

Accepting my fate means disobeying the one closest to me and allowing myself to die at the hands of the one I hate the most. Living out my true part in life means getting close to people, having my own thoughts, making my own decisions.

_**I am but a tool.**_

Or so I've been telling myself all these years. Why can't I just stop thinking useless thoughts and concentrate on what I am told to do? Why must I question everything? Deny everything?

"_Why must you deny it?"_

Indeed. Why must I? What can be so wrong as to complete my strange, mysterious role in this forbidden play? Unbidden, my hands rose to my face and entwined around each other. Entranced, I watched helplessly as it pulled my ring from my slender finger...

"_Why must you deny it?"_

**Freedom.**

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I watched with awe at the transformation. I gazed in open wonder as Draco grew, growing taller and even more slender. His long hair swirled around him in a trail of glowing fireflies and his luminescent skin glowed to match the sun. His nails elongated and his teeth sharpened as he let his head fall back in the pleasure of taking off the illusion. With quick, graceful movements, the Slytherin brushed his hair past his pointed ears, tying it loosely back with a golden rope. His silver-gold eyes pierced into mine, searching its depth for answers that I did not know of..

He stood there like me, unsure of what to do. However, he soon donned his superior mask, flashing me a superior smirk as he swaggered over to me in a manner that he had adopted in the masquerade that we both participated in.

"Surprised? I'm taller than you now."

I smiled slyly at his familiar pompous attitude, a genuine smile making a crinkle in my eyes.

"It's nothing compared to me." I sneer back. My grin widened as he placed his hands on his hips, looking down at me in an elegant show of arrogance.

"Care to prove it?" He sniffed. I sighed and rolled my eyes, slowly taking my glasses off.

Immediately I felt the familiar pleasure of removing the burden from my body. I sighed in pleasure as I felt myself grow, surpassing Draco's height. I shook my head, flicking the strands that now fell into my eyes. Smirking, I challenged Draco with my eyes, willing him to look at my now pale, glowing complexion and the infinite darkness of my hair. In what seemed like hours of absolute bliss, the transformation was finally complete.

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Under the protection of complete darkness, save for the shining moon, two eyes glowed within the shadows of the night.

Green gazed softly into Silver.

Gold flashed harshly against Gold.

Both halves stared at each other; light to dark, dark to light. Neither knew what to do. Instead, the dark-haired one slowly walked towards the other, like darkness overcoming day. It blended into the other as a hand reached out to inspect the blonde strands. Pure white-blonde clashed against midnight black as the fingers reached out again, eyes searching the other for answers that neither knew.

"So this is what you look like." Harry whispered, idly holding strands of Draco's hair.

"It's nothing special." Draco scoffed, glaring at Harry's height.

"You can drop the mask. I can tell when you're lying." The amused voice replied. Draco stiffened, refusing to let go of the shell that had kept him alive all these years.

"And what of you? Besides, why do I look more feminine than you?" He complained loudly, pulling at his long, silken strands. Harry laughed.

"Even under the illusion you were like a girl." The Boy-Who-Lived snickered as the other growled.

The two boys leaned back against the gloomy trees, sitting casually on the leaf-ridden earth as they stared at each other's transformations. Harry had his hands behind his back, relaxing against his tree trunk, whereas Draco sat quietly with his hands in his lap, legs messily sprawled halfway towards his chest

"So what happens now?" Draco said softly after several minutes of peaceful silence.

"I don't know." Harry wondered, "can we drop our illusions now that we've found each other?"

"Of course not!" Draco snapped, "It's not safe!"

"What do you mean?" The other answered back in clear confusion.

"Lucius-" The blonde stopped, his mouth tightening almost painfully as he finally realized the consequences of his actions.

"_Heed my only warning, son."_

"_He will never forgive you."_

"_You know what the consequences will be."_

"_You must not tell anyone of your circumstances...it can be detrimental on your life."_

"_**Crucio!"**_

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_The boy huddled into the corner, tearfully yanking the tear-sodden strands of hair away from his face. He bit back a whimper as the door to his room opened, revealing a strict man who exuded a cold, harsh aura._

"_Draco." The man calmly said, coldly cutting the boy with his words, "Do you understand why I have locked you in here?"_

_The boy looked fearfully into the man's eyes, his two orbs gazing blindingly into the sudden light; he had been locked in a small room with thick walls and no windows for four days. The man acknowledged his silence, assuming it to be of respect as he crouched near the boy. The pitiful creature made a small attempt to bury himself into his corner before he was stopped abruptly by the man's piercing gaze._

"_Like my father had done to me, I will do to you. This is what will happen if you ever betray our cause; if you ever decide to go against what has been set for you. Understand that one day, if I find that you have disobeyed my orders, this will happen indefinitely."_

_**Indefinitely.**_

_Forever was a long time for a small boy of nine. In fact, as the man left, the boy stared after him; his eyes burned painfully from the light yet he faced it, unable to turn away and confront the darkness once more..._

_It was then that the boy realized—it was almost ironic—that in the duration of the time that he had drenched in the darkness of the room, it had purified his entire being. _

_Like his father, Draco Malfoy was now endowed with frighteningly pale skin, surreal silver orbs, and lightened hair; he was marked by the night, forever forced to stay untouched by the delight of the sun and the happiness that came with it._

_**Draco Malfoy, like his father, was now a tool.

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**_

**Author's Notes:** Phew! Wow, 14 pages, not too shabby. There's more to write, but I feel that it'd go better in the next chapter. Merf, I've made Draco a bit –too- emotional and feminine to my tastes, but I suppose being an emotional git might have some things to do with it. And oh! Joys to the world! I finally made a rough outline, which will definitely help my chapter writing progress much more quickly...of course, **reviews help chapters coming too**...;D

**PS:** **To clear some things - **When Lucius said Draco would be locked in darkness indefinitely, it meant Draco would be killed (get it? Dark Death? -o-; )

**Methods of torture**: Draco in a dark room does not sound very scary, does it? Well, in Alcatraz (or was it Angel Island? Both?), which happens to be in San Francisco, California, there's a "time out" chamber in which people are shoved into. It's a tiny, tiny cramped area (probably no more then 5x5 feet) and there are no windows and horrendously thick walls. People would be trapped there and go insane in a matter of hours. In fact, my dad shut me in there for half a second to creep me out and oh boy...it was...indescribable. -All- of my senses were cut off and I lost all sense of direction, even though I had just been facing the door the instant before. It was insanely scary and cruel...

**Next Chapter:** So Draco and Harry find out they are each other's halves...however, there's no way Draco's going to go with Harry! It's not like they're soul mates...Draco's determined to play his role in the war; after all, that's how he was brought up. He must live with that fact...hating himself for it...(aka: More angst). In the mean time, both find it harder to keep up the facade in the eternal dance of their masquerade...(ew, I rhymed).

**Shout outs:**

_Geminidragon_: Wee Glad to know you like it! I've updated as soon as I could! Hope you enjoy this chappie!

_Miss brownie:_ Hehe, have a nice day...not many reviewers write that :3 that's so sweet of you XD

_Jyrotika:_ Yay, I've tried to make it as original as I could...original good :D

_Crystal Malfoy_: I love your nickname...anything with 'Malfoy' in it is yummy XD and yea, I could never bear to keel my poor doggie –sniffles and huggles pooch- it hurt me just to type it T-T

_Yaeko: _What's next? Weeeeeell ta da! –holds out next chappie- X3

_Luminara Windu_: Glad you like my writing style! I've been working on my detailing nowadays (since I've had past reviews saying it was not up to par). And yea...prophecy ficcies are kinda...'another one!' _but_ this couldn't really advance without a prophecy so...yea –o-;

_iNsAnE nO bAkA:_ Eep! I sure don't want any evil to befall me o.o; -works on next chappie frantically- and yea, I've always thought Draco would fit oh-so-well with a puppy for some reason...makes me smile :D

_Weirdly_: Yuppers, it will be Harry/Draco. I love Harry/Draco –starry eyes- they're so yummy XD

_Chaney:_ Glad to know you're interested! And my first reviewer too! Weeeee –hugs- Hope you enjoy this chappie: )

**Reviews are _always_ welcome! Support the cause! I love the feedback! ; )**


	3. A Fearful Realization

**A/N:** After re-reading Order of the Phoenix and the Half Blood Prince , I am utterly appalled. I've forgotten the darker tone that the tale of Harry Potter takes on and the even deeper hatred between him and Malfoy. Argh, I'll have to make some drastic changes in my ficcie...

**PS:** For sake of my story, as well as my own personal "NOOOOOOOoooo" reasons, Harry's never been with anyone, under Imperius or not.

**PSS:** The song used in this story is "Faces" by Lene Marlin.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco dwell behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

**

* * *

**

Masquerade – A Fearful Realization

* * *

I needed the laughs, I needed you tonight

Life is so good when I'm with you  
So look at me, when I'm not aware  
Then you'll see, I cannot do without you

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**_I am a hypocrite._**

Pale, slender hands grasp short, golden strands tightly, pulling at them with angry ferocity before sliding onto the flawless surface of the face.

_What happened? _

Once upon a time, I had everything under control; I tightly watched everyone's—including mine—actions. I was careful, so painfully careful on preserving my precious title as the Winter Prince.

A sigh comes from the soft, thin lips as a dainty, pointed nose buries itself further into the mass of fingers.

_How did I get into this mess?_

Instead of living happily ever after, some ignorant troll had the audacity to bust down my carefully guarded moat, dragging me away from my gracious, frozen throne. Nay, the bumbling fool kidnapped me into his world; the real world.

A soft whine emerges as a cold, wet nose presses itself against the back of my hand. I sigh once again, looking up into the warm brown eyes of the mutt that I had come to adopt.

_You shouldn't be here._ _And yet, you are._

I was not supposed to feel remorse; I was not supposed to remember the cruel past and the bleak future that was held for me. Instead, I had trained myself to think only of the present and nothing else—or at least, I _tried_.

I shut my eyes tightly again, trying madly to ignore the valiant attempt of comfort that the dog was trying to offer. How could I have established such a cold-hearted, indifferent mind; a brilliant display of guarded ice and blue solidity that I have prided myself upon...

Only to have it broken by pity and guilt?

I silently counted in my head all the little acts I had done that caused me to become...soft. Just a few days ago, I had comforted Pansy on her latest breakup...and I had helped Blaise to the infirmary after he had broken his wrist in Quidditch. Hell, I even saved Granger from that gruesome death that all mudbloods deserved.

My eyes grew hot and angry in frustration. They watered and burned, demanding release of their heavy burden. I frowned, blinking them away with fierce determination.

_Malfoys never cry._

I whipped my head in the direction of a sudden noise; my dratted reflection stared back at me smugly, a knowing look on its face.

_Told you that you couldn't do it._ It smirked. I scowled.

I feel nothing; I am gifted with a black hole in my chest instead of a heart. However, why am I feeling so many emotions? So many _weaknesses_?

A mop of dark hair flashed in my mind. Dark hair that turned midnight black beneath the moon with emerald eyes that sparkled gold under the twinkling stars.

_Potter._

"_Can we drop our illusions now that we've found each other?"_

"Easy for you to say." I muttered to myself, wishing with all my will that the person in my mind heard it too, "You're not the one who has everything to lose."

My reflection scowled, glaring at me with a "What have _you_ got to lose?" look. I matched it with my own glare; one that spoke a word that had the importance of a thousand.

_**My life.**_

I had accepted the fact that my entire being was to be used and thrown away by the Dark Lord. To suddenly be given a choice was...liberating.

I slapped myself harshly, gritting my teeth as I slapped myself again.

_You do not deserve the light that is freedom._

That's right, I must continue to fulfill my role as the Malfoy prodigy; To gain rank in the Deatheater society before being killed for some meaningless cause.

_Why do you do this to yourself?_ The reflection whispered to me; Funny, he actually looked genuinely confused this time. I smirk, sneering at the copy of myself.

_Do I need a reason? I am but a tool; servants like me do as we're told._

I leaned back again, glancing at the puppy that had fallen asleep next to me. I gently stroked its head. I'll keep this little one, as the single memory of my sins. However...I looked down again, staring at the intricate embroideries of my robe.

_The choice to join Harry Potter is impossible; halves of each other or not. _

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I'll be right there, if you ask me to  
If you're feeling sad, I'll stay with you  
And if you're scared, I'll hold your hand  
Like I know you'd do for me too.

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Glancing across the table during breakfast, I was once again faced with the cold, closed exterior that was Draco Malfoy's back. I snorted, choking on my breakfast in the process.

_Let him ignore me. Now I'll finally get some peace._

I took a deep breath as I plunged my fork violently into my eggs again. Calm, breath-taking peace and serenity...a beautiful sunset...lazy clouds in the sky...cold, calculating eyes-

_Damn him! Damn him! **Damn him!** _

I should be feeling happy that I was finally free of the Deatheater in training, yet...

I sat back and sighed.

_The days seem so quiet._

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione questioned and I looked up at her, smiling softly and giving her a nod. Ron gave both of us a puzzled glance, his eyes lingering on Hermione a bit longer. Hermione chose to look down, whispering softly,

"You never talk with us anymore."

My smile tightened. I knew that I was not the cheerful, innocent boy that had befriended Ron and Hermione years ago; I had become—as much as I loathe to admit it—a much darker, hateful being. A rotting piece of fruit that became consistently darker and more disgusting with every second that passed. I chose my words carefully, trying my hardest not to cause pain:

"I don't want to get people I care about involved."

"Don't give us that, Harry," Ron suddenly spoke, startling me and Hermione, "and don't look at me like that! I'm not _completely_ clueless."

_Or are you?_

"I'm not feeling too well, so I'll be in my room. See you two during class." I said bitterly before quickly escaping, making use of my long legs and walking quickly into my room.

Sprawled across my bed, I sighed into the cool sheets against my face, relishing in the little comfort that it gave. My eyebrows furrowed as my mind was once again whisked off into the thoughts of a boy that I had hated. A boy that I hated. A boy that I hate.

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"_So what happens now?" Draco said softly after several minutes of peaceful silence._

"_I don't know." Harry wondered, "can we drop our illusions now that we've found each other?"_

"_Of course not!" Draco snapped, "It's not safe!"_

"_What do you mean?" The other answered back in clear confusion._

"_Lucius-" The blonde stopped, his mouth tightening almost painfully as he finally realized the consequences of his actions. He froze, gazing off into empty air that seemed to contain answers unknown to anyone but himself. _

_In between the terse silence, Draco deftly slid the ring back onto his finger, masking his true form once again. Harry's startled eyes wildly pierced Draco's calm orbs as the pale boy stood up. _

"_Draco?"_

"_Don't call me that!" Draco yelled, shocking himself at his own desperate voice._

"_You and I...we're enemies, Potter." He said in a much softer tone, "we do not belong anywhere near each other."_

_The moon had risen to its highest point in the sky, the lazy clouds masking the distant rumbling of the forthcoming weather. The two masks faced each other, challenging the other to see who could stay in their eternal shell longer. Slowly, the moon began to wane._

"_Look, Dra-Malfoy," Harry said impatiently, "Dumbledore's prophecy said that our halves could complete fate! Together we can have a power far greater than anyone...a power that can-"  
"defeat the Dark Lord?" A curt voice replied, "I don't think you remember who I'm working for."_

"_How can you admit it, just like that?" Harry whispered harshly, "we can fulfill our countless prophecies!"_

"_We can fulfill –your- countless prophecies," Draco spat, "much like the one where you defeat my Lord!"_

_Harry's face paled, "you...you know about that?"_

"_Why wouldn't I?" The Slytherin sneered, "if I remember correctly, you're supposed to defeat the Lord with your capability to **Love**, was I wrong?"_

_At Harry's stunned face, Draco came upon a realization._

"_You thought that with our combined powers and love, we would defeat the Dark Lord?" A mad chortle came from soft lips, "I'm so honored, Potter, that you deem me worthy of your filthy love."_

"_That's not what I meant!" Harry cried impatiently, "I'm just saying that with our powers and our love for what is right, we can easily overcome Voldemort!"_

_The pale boy merely laughed harder, large, crystalline drops trailing down his pointed face as he clutched his stomach in apparent humor_

"_Potter, my dear enemy," he gasped, wiping a tear from his eye, "you forget that I do not love, for Malfoys have no hearts!" The boy's lip quivered, his breath coming out in sharp gasps as he stared at the frozen boy below him. The brunette continued to stare at the blond, unable to think of what to say. _

"_Oh don't look so down," Draco mocked, "you'll still see me around—on the other side of the battlefield. I'll be sure to say hello before I hex you to next week."_

_The Boy-Who-Lived lowered his eyes, gazing at the dark green grass, which suddenly seemed so enchanting. "You know the prophecy most likely says that we'll kill each other if we continue fighting?" Harry finally whispered. Draco stared back at Potter, forcing harshness into his eyes._

"_As long as it pleases Him, anything for my Lord." He whispered tersely, spinning around and stalking away._

_The moon was gone, the countless mass of stars blending and shifting over the empty space. The Milky Way snaked across the clearing, wrapping the sky in a cloudy film of chill. The boy who lay in the grass shivered, finally donning his glasses and dejectedly walking away._

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I turned around quickly when I heard the now-familiar footsteps walking into the classroom, jabbing my arm against the edge of the desk. I hissed in pain, grabbing my injured limb.

_That's the third mirror I broke this week; it'll be the death of me._

I deliberately paid extra careful attention to Snape's lecture, writing down every word he said. It wasn't that the class was hard; on the contrary, I had already been forced to learn this at home—I just didn't want to think.

It kept pulling me back to the time when, for nearly an hour, Har-Potter and I had been almost...friends.

_Hate him. Hate him with your very being._

I choked on air, coughing uneasily as my hands flew to my stomach. The mantra continued inside my head, oblivious to my apparent discomfort. It boiled within my blood, melded into my flesh, and poured acidly into the empty gap inside my chest.

_**Hate him.**_

Ignoring Snape's startled gaze and my classmates' shrieks, I ran out of the classroom and into my safe haven. Lucifer greeted me there, whimpering for company as it crawled over to my stumbling feet. I took a look at the young pup, a shaking hand reaching for its furry head.

**_Despise him_.**

I gasp, withdrawing my hand and crushing it against my side. With uncharacteristic violence, my arms reach out to sweep away the pile of books that had been set neatly upon my desk. They splatter unceremoniously onto the stark floor, bitter pages folding into odd angles against the darkness. My body flings itself upon the study table, the edge of the hard wood pushing painfully into my abdomen.

I screamed. I wailed. I even shouted, but I did not cry; after all, Malfoys never cry.

_**Detest him.**_

The rage of fire grew stronger, the smoke choking my constricted lungs as the tongues of heat licked against my throat. To no avail, I desperately claw at my bleeding ears to cover the unearthly sound of the mantra that continues to grow stronger. Fingers fumble desperately for one of my emergency items that was hidden in the secret drawer.

I withdrew the object quickly, holding it in my trembling wand hand, which gripped the item tightly. I took a few breaths, struggling to quell the manipulative instructions inside of me. I was programmed for this, I should not be rejecting these ideas! What tool would dare disobey its orders?

**_Destroy him_.**

A howl of anguish tore from my throat, and I allowed my raised arm to drop with astonishing velocity. The dagger embedded itself deep into my other arm, fresh blood streaming from the wound. I screamed again as I tore the weapon away from the limp limb, watching the sudden rivulets of blood that spilled from the gap.

Tainted, crimson streams of corrupted liquid trickled away from contaminated skin. As it escaped into the crevices of the dirt and grime on the floor, anger also seeped away; the orders that had been ingrained into memory detached and lingered lazily in my mind, finally flowing away as unconsciousness took over.

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Ever since Malfoy abruptly fled the room, I had not caught a glimpse of him all day. Sad how I find myself constantly looking for the white-blonde head even when he's clearly shown that he wants nothing to do with me.

_And you want nothing to do with him, either._ I reminded myself.

Yet I needed to talk to him. I needed to confirm his intentions and...well, I needed to talk to him.

_You didn't have to repeat yourself, you stupid git._ I cursed to myself.

He had yet to show his Slytherin face and I had overheard Pansy loudly complaining about where Draco was. Thus, it was a surprise when I noticed him show up for detention. He was late, but nevertheless, he was there. Not even glancing at me, he snatched the list from my hands and stalked off.

"Malfoy!" I called out. He stiffened, preparing to ignore me. "I want to ask you something!" I call out again. He slowly turned his head to the side, cautiously gazing at me from the corner of his eye.

"When you openly admitted that you served Voldemort" I noticed Draco flinch, "does that mean that you are a Deatheater?"

The blonde continued to gaze at me, considering his answer. Finally, he opened his mouth, his voice strangely thick and hoarse.

"Does it even matter?" He said sullenly as he turned around again. A flush of indignation rose in my cheeks and I grabbed his arm roughly. He all but shrieked, his free arm desperately pushing mine away. When I did not let go, he dropped to his knees, clutching his captive arm as he closed eyes tightly.

"Bowing to me already, Malfoy?" I dared, gazing at his shivering form with cool precision. When he made no answer, I attempted to pull him up, but he grabbed my hand almost tightly, holding it in place as he hissed.

It began to rain, shimmering scarlet soaking into long fingers, drowning them without mercy. I felt my eyes widen as the blood continued to soak through Malfoy's sleeves. The liquid continued to trickle between my fingers, slowly dripping into the already blood-soaked earth. I let go quickly, Malfoy falling as he clutches his arm protectively. He curls up, cradling his bloody limb and never once opening his eyes.

"Draco?" I cautiously ventured. His eyes snapped open.

"Don't say my name!" He shrieks again, frantically leaping up and drawing his wand. His injured arm hangs limply to his side, blood still leaking down the slender limb. He stumbles back as I draw my wand in defense, his eyes hardening into a heartless rage.

"Stupefy!" He snarls, cursing at my successful dodge.

"Expelliarmus!" I yell in return as Malfoy darts away.

"Incendio!"  
"Petrificus Totalus!"

Both of us exchange wild hexes, neither able to win until both lay panting on the ground, an eternity apart.

"You...ready to," I pant, "talk now?"

There was silence as Draco slowly caught his breath. He was lying face down onto the grass, mumbling something incoherent. I look up again from my sprawled position, glancing at Malfoy.

"I don't want people to see me weak." He mumbles again, tilting his head to the side tiredly. I sigh.

"No one does, Malfoy."

"And tools don't have weaknesses." Came the solemn reply.

"Come again?"

Malfoy shook his head tiredly, lifting himself up. "Today is our last day of detention together and we spent the whole time fighting." He chuckles softly.

"That's because you would not talk." I whisper, looking into his eyes, "why have you been ignoring me?" Malfoy purses his lips, looking back at me as a glimmer of gold shimmers within the depths of his diamond eyes.

"We needed to realize our differences."

The hazy clouds that covered the moon were slowly swept away, leaving the glowing globe flawless and shimmering with a bright, ethereal light. The boy who stood beneath it looked at his feet, scuffing at the dirt.

"Potter, you realize that we can never be friends?"

"Why not?" I blurt loudly as Malfoy looks at me with startled eyes.

"You-You blasted, bloody, naive Gryffindor!" He angrily yells, "We're _enemies_!"

"Life changes." I say firmly as Draco's jaw drops and he looks at me in disbelief.

"I'm fated to fight for You-Know-Who," The blonde reminds me, "I'm a Slytherin, you're a Gryffindor. _Everything_ is different between us! We're like the sun and the moon!"

_Sun and Moon? That sounds rather familiar..._

"Darkness and Light!" I blurt again, eyes widening in understanding. "The prophecy! Don't you get it, Draco? We're _supposed_ to be different in order to be each other's halves! We're almost...destined to fulfill the prophecy!"

The Slytherin sighs, gazing at me sympathetically, "I told you not to call me that." He murmurs, "besides, being halves don't mean anything. The prophecy says nothing about forcing us to complete it upon discovery."

Suddenly the pale boy that stood before me seemed so, so very tired and much too mature for his age. His features are riddled with thought and desperation, as if he was hanging from a thin, breaking strand of hope.

"In fact, the prophecy probably means that we'll kill each other in battle." He whispers, limping slowly back to the castle. He stops suddenly, a frown marring his defined features as he turned around. "By the way, this is the last time I'm being civil with you. Don't expect anything tomorrow."

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The next morning, the world was once again blinded by the hatred that was emitted from the rushing wave of scarlet and emerald.

"Just what we need, a mob of Deatheaters first thing in the morning." A voice whines irritably.

"Why look everyone, it's the Golden Trio." A familiar voice sneers, "Correction: the Golden Four, now that another Weasel has been added to the mix."

"Lay off about my sister, _Malfoy_." Ron spits as the blonde merely raised an eyebrow. He purposely looks over Ginny, much to her brother's chagrin.

"Actually, she's quite pretty." Draco remarks, "maybe I should lay _on _her instead of laying off-"

"Ron, fighting will do no good!" Hermione shrieks as she frantically grabs Ron's wand from his seething hand.

"I don't think she'd appreciate someone without experience." I snap to Ron's defense. The pale boy swiftly turns to me, sneering.

"Jealous, Potter?"

"Let's just go!" Hermione hisses, turning her head to Draco as she swept past, "and I thought there was some hope left in you, Malfoy. Guess I was wrong."

"Someone set Merlin's robes on fire! Hermione Mudblood Granger got something wrong!" Draco taunts sarcastically as his Slytherin minions titters behind him.

No one noticed Ginny gaze longingly at Draco Malfoy as she was dragged away from the chaos...

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I smirk bitterly to myself, finding Hermione's prolonged touch on Harry's arm amusing as she reluctantly pulls her hand from him.

_A Mudblood and her Mudblood-lover, how romantic._ I sneer to myself.

I shiver in disgust as a hand weaves itself into my hair. However, I glance up casually at Pansy, giving her a fake smile of conceited comfort as I continue to lay in her lap. She merely smirks back as we both turn to watch the pathetic Gryffindor Four studying on a bench a distance away from us.

"Those two are going to end up together." Pansy says firmly.

"Who? The Mudblood and the Weasel?" I snort, a fog of depression settling into my head as I already knowing the truth.

"Of course not," Pansy rolls her eyes, "Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

"The Weasel fancies her as well." I say almost defensively. The fog is heavy and humid, weighing my body down with an iron grip.

"Doesn't matter," Comes the smug reply, "a girl's intuition."

I say nothing, turning back to watch Potter and his blasted friends.

_Potter._

Closing my eyes, my wand hand automatically makes its way to my other arm. The wound I had inflicted on myself on that night had already healed, courtesy of my superior healing knowledge. However, my hand lazily begins to trace the new scabs that marked the pale limb; my newest set of battle wounds.

Things had gone back to normal the day after our detention; I had made sure of that. To ensure our difference in society, I had thrown myself headfirst into accepting Pansy's affectionate gestures—even if it made me want to vomit. Soon after, I noticed Potter getting awfully cozy with the Mudblood, or maybe they always have been close—not that I pay much attention.

Suddenly, I remember a letter that Lucius had dropped to me earlier today. I whip it out, quickly scanning its contents:

_Draco,_

_Our Lord has sent you important orders. Fulfill this and become initiated. Do not disappoint me._

There was no signature and the sentences were of a secret code, which I continued to read. Blood froze within my veins as I stared at the hidden text. Drowning within the swirling waters of fear, I was oblivious to even Pansy's revolting touches.

**Disable Harry Potter.**

It was understandable that You-Know-Who wanted to make the Boy-Who-Lived defenseless, but to get a young boy to do it? I snorted to myself; this sort of plan _did_ seem like something the Dark Lord would like.

As a tool, it should be an easy thing to do. Come up with any sort of coma-inducing poison, slip it into his drink, and let the potion work its magic; such a simple deed for such a simple tool. However...

_What would Harry think?_

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I cough loudly, hacking up the disgusting remains of my meal. My stomach lurches again, my throat burning with acid.

_Harry Potter turns bulimic? Oh what would the public think?_ I ponder wryly to myself as I stare at my pale, gaunt face in the mirror. It's not like I've been intentionally "purging" myself, I just seem to have trouble keeping things in my stomach for the past few days.

Now why would it have any trouble? It surely couldn't have anything to do with the way that Ron and Hermione have been stifling me with their optimistic "You're our savior, Harry" attitudes. They have been supporting; _too_ supporting.

Also, it could not have been the way that Hermione has been almost..._flirting_ with me; after all, both of us know how Ron feels for her. Lastly, there is _no_ way Draco Malfoy has been occupying my mind.

_Blast, I thought of him again._

Another rush of sickness emerges and I dip my head awkwardly into the familiar sink. After I finish the deed, my head swirls with blinking dots and the room suddenly seems awfully bright. I sit back against the wall, breath ragged and torn.

There was no one I could talk to; Hermione and Ron would say something along the lines of "You should see Madam Pomfrey" or "We'll always be here for you, Harry"—nothing I want to hear. I wanted to hear the truth; something..._substantial._

"_What a weakling. Can't even hold your own food, Potter?"_

I cough again, my head suddenly pounding with the drums of a fairy festival in full bloom. Why Draco had to talk with me, why we had to open up to each other, and even show our true forms for that one precious moment is beyond me.

It hurt all the more to know that there _was_ someone I could spend time with without becoming frustrated, yet that said someone was a stubborn git who insists on hating each other.

_He's right. Look at all the times he's went against you. Hell, he's even proud that he's a Deatheater-to-be_ The voice chides within me.

I lean back against the cold tiles of the wall in response, taking a deep breath. However, the more I thought about how I had everything to hate Malfoy for, the more I wanted to know his reasons for _why_. I wanted to get to know him; I wanted to look into his mind.

The mirror smirked, _but things are back to normal. You should be happy._

I glared into the mirror. _I don't know if it is Malfoy's influence, but the bloody mirror is speaking to me._

_You should be honored, not every reflection is as talkative as I._ My reflection sniffed.

I roll my eyes, _watch yourself—you might find yourself in shards for being such a git._

The blasted glass merely scoffed, _that's what the other boy does too. Such a violent bloke..._

I raised an eyebrow, catching his meaning. _Draco Malfoy?_

_But of course, _The mirror sneered, _who else would dare do such a deed?_

Harry grinned, his eyes almost maniacal as a fist smashed its way into the fragile glass, broken shards engraving itself into his hand...

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"_Father, I bring you news of Potter and his friends." A pale boy said coldly as he kneeled before his senior, "I have talked with the fraudulent reporter Rita Skeeter and successfully alerted the world of his many...flaws."_

"_Excellent, Draco." The man replied, "you have done well. Now have you any new information of Dumbledore for the Lord?"_

"_Unfortunately, that is all I had to give." Young Malfoy answered, a subtle frown gracing his stoic features. He said nothing as his father stood up, trembling in rage._

"_How many times do you insist on disappointing me? You are a shame to the Malfoy name; an utter failure to our cause!" The enraged elder shouted, "such ignorance cannot be accepted! **Crucio**!"_

_The boy screamed, stopping abruptly as he bit his bleeding, torn lip. He clawed at his face, fists tightening and nails piercing flesh as he suffered his torture in absolute silence. _

_After all, Draco Malfoy was a tool and tools have no emotion._

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

I awoke with a sharp gasp, sweat sprinkling like morning dew upon my back.

_It's that dream again._

Sighing, my thoughts flew back to what Lucius had ordered me to do. Disable Harry Potter. Do something—anything—to make him weak.

I ran a sticky hand through my damp hair, wrinkling my nose at the sensation. A lump of pure rage stirred within me, urging me to rebel against the man who is my father.

_Tools don't feel. Go away._

Just because I've accepted the fact that Lucius will never acknowledge the things I do does not mean that I will join the other side; no, I can only allow destiny to run its path, carrying me along its flow.

"_Why? What good can come of it?"_ _Potter whispered._

"_Because I must." I whisper back, our breath mingling with the others in the crisp morning air as we held each other desperately, both needing the reassurance that came from the simple touch-_

My cheek begins to sting as sweat drips into my new wound. I raise my now-bloodied hand to my face, staring at it with strange fascination. I slap myself again, giving my thoughts a painful warning that I was clearly out of line with such...strange thoughts.

_Damn Potter for dragging me away from the flowing path. Damn Potter for being my half. Damn Potter for..._

_For making me **feel.**_

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**I am a hypocrite.**

I look at Hermione and Ron with a longing look on my face as they turn their backs to me.

_I am such an idiot._

I should have known that I would not be able to keep my mask up. My impenetrable shell was supposed to be immune to everything, yet the smashing blow that was Malfoy cracked it beyond repair.

And now I face the consequences.

"_Harry? We noticed you were in the bathroom for a very long time and-"_

"_I'm quite all right, 'Mione. You really don't have to worry about me."_

"_Hermione's right, mate. We're your friends, you can tell us anything."_

"_Look Ron, I just don't feel-"_

"_Harry, we're always going to be here for you. Please don't close yourself on us like this."_

"_Listen to her, Harry. You need to stay strong; our favorite hero can't stumble now-"_

"_**SHUT UP**!"_

I groan, burying my face into my spread hands as I huddle over my desk. Professor McGonagall, along with a few other students, look at me strangely, but I ignore them. None of them could help me; in fact, they all thought that _I_ should be helping _them_.

"_Stop being such a self-obsessed prat, Potter. Contrary to belief, you're not always the center of the world."_

I snuck a look at a certain Slytherin. He was staring straight ahead, a flawless, pale hand tracing its way down his slender jaw as his eyebrows arched in a thoughtful manner.

"_Staring at me again? Morgana's robes, I'm just that bloody handsome, aren't I?"_

I look away sharply as if stung, the tingling sensation of a slap already forming on my tense face.

_If only you had not started ignoring me again, none of this would have happened._ I grumbled to the pale blond miserably, daring him to read my mind. _It's all your fault._

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He approached me again, just like I knew he would. I said nothing, opting to pretend nothing was there. No, the burning fire of an intense gaze upon my back was merely a breeze, the sudden thickness of the air merely the humidity of the weather. The boy behind me was no more solid than Peeves.

...Until he clasped a heavy hand upon my stiff shoulder.

But still, I say nothing, merely glancing down at the offending hand before transforming my face into a well-practiced condescending look. The boy continued his heavy stare; his blank face showing nothing but flawless skin and mouth just short of being called full.

I really do not know how long we stood there. Me with my wet, clammy hands down at my sides and him with his hot, lead-laden arm clasped upon my shoulder, topped with our disgusting, loathing reflections staring smugly back at us.

Finally, it was I who broke the silence. "Potter, get your filthy hand off my shoulder."

The brunette said nothing, continuing to give me that apathetic gaze that I had come to despise with a passion. Filling up with unknown rage, I snarl and violently shake my shoulder free of his disease. However, even as I stalk off, he grabs my arm.

Now my face is inches away from his; gold flashing upon startled gold. I feel vulnerable; a sudden weakness that had been shown by the small action of having my illusions broken down by a boy who I had hated with my entire being.

"Stop staring at me!" I sneer, "unless you've taken fancy to my beautiful face?"

The boy jerks, wrenching away as if I was the predator and he the victim. His offensive hand immediately lifts to his stunned face, cupping his cheek gently as if it had been injured. Yet still, he says nothing, shows nothing, and does nothing.

I sigh, "what game are you playing at, Potter? If this is your idea of amusement, I don't see how you would have companions."

"You-I can't go on like this." A hoarse voice responds; the sentence carefully worded.

"Fallen to my charms?" I mutter with thinly masked confusion, "Really, not even _I_ was expecting that-"

"You very well know what I mean!" He suddenly shouts, eyes blazing wide open in emotion as unshed tears gave the round opals some sort of feeling.

_But eyes show nothing. So would tears be considered false reality?_

And yet I find myself responding with equal passion: "No I don't know what you mean! Stop playing with me, you ignorant prat!"

The Boy-Who-Lived freezes, panting heavily from his own outburst. He begins to pace around, arms flying in a dazzling array of gestures as he continues his ramble, "I know this seems rather awkward, but...I just can't continue like nothing's wrong when-" He pauses, searching for words he cannot explain.

"...when I know the truth."

The last part came as a whisper from dead lips, cold and morbidly solemn. I met it with a coarse chuckle.

"Fool, don't speak in riddles you cannot fathom."

"How do you expect me to continue our..._feud_ when I know that you are my other half? When I know that Draco Malfoy _can_ be a civil human being?"

"I expect you to continue like I am!" I snarl again, jumping at my own suddenly thick voice, "I already _told_ you! Being halves mean _nothing_! Absolutely _nothing_!"

Once again, Potter freezes mid-step. Slowly—to my anxiety—he takes a slow step towards me. He takes another one, and yet another until he is within an arm's reach. Again, to my unease, he gives me his apathetic look, the stoic face staring into mine with a strange sort of hollowness that makes my breath hitch in fear.

"Be-Being halves, or even two of a kind does not automatically mean we become best mates," I stutter, wincing at my weak attempt at a drawl, "this isn't a fairytale, where people live happily ever after."

"I know." My other being whispers to me, "I wish I didn't."

He steps forward again and I nervously step back. "Did you know—Well, you _had_ to know—that I had an argument with Hermione and Ron?" He continues, "and I could have easily succumbed and apologized for my behavior?"

He takes yet another step and almost like a familiar dance, I instinctively step back. "I could have easily laughed off their concern, yet I chose, at that very moment, to release my mask and hail fury on my two closest friends?"

My back is now pressed against the sink of the bathroom and my trembling hands desperately grip the edge of the rim. "What, pray tell, does that have a rat's tail to do with me?" I hear myself say defiantly.

He leans forward, calm breath blowing against my distressed face.

"Everything."

"_From the small amount of time that we have intermingled, shown our true selves, or even just fought, part of our mask chips away. Draco, our shells have been cruelly stripped from us by our own hands, and yet you deny it?" _His unspoken meaning reverberates in my head, "_Don't you feel it too?"_

Something snaps inside of me. Although I cannot say that I knew who took the first punch, I was aware that I had tumbled down with Harry Potter on the bathroom floor, fists whistling through the air and legs kicking wherever possible.

It was a violent dance of sorts, first going through the motions of the waltz; graceful and entrancing. The second stage would be the salsa, erratic movements flying as sweat glistens off our flushed faces, bodies writhing in an intangible heat. Last of all came the tango; both of us currently sprawled across the floor, biting and clawing as our bodies came into full contact in the climax of our intricate dance.

On that day, I left the bathroom with a broken wrist and blood all over my face. Not to say Potter fared any better, as he sported a sprained ankle and a few broken ribs. Both of us hobbled to Madam Pomfrey, ignorant of her outraged squeals as we coolly gazed at each other.

Something had changed between us, yet again.

...Somehow, I knew it was not for the better.

* * *

**AN: **Phew, after a long time of writing (took a while to convey my feelings, and three crushed fingers didn't help my typing o), I'm glad I finished this chapter :) However, I noticed that I had alluded to several stereotypes within every chapter. Anyone care to see if they can find all of them? ;D 

**PS Kiss:** I was reading other HP fanfics, and I notice that Harry and Draco's tongues always "fight for dominance" in a kiss. Now, how do people "win" or "lose" in a snog? How do they gain dominance? If someone knows, please inform me. I feel so naive o.O

**Next Chapter:**

Sure, Harry and Draco still yell scathing remarks at each other, they still hex each other to oblivion, and annoy the hell out of their rival Houses, but what about that fight in the bathroom? What's up with that? Hogwarts meet Brokeback, coming up next! (I didn't get the idea for the next chappie from Brokeback Mountain, I swear...)

**Shout outs:**

_Mino_: Neat. :D (I'd reply more, but I truly don't know what to say XD; )

_iNsAnE nO bAkA:_ It'll be a while until Draco lets down his mask in front of public, but oh boy all hell will break loose. I've got that part all planned out...angst-fest, anyone?

_Chaney:_ This update, unfortunately took a while :( Twas a bit hard, with me being ignorant of the real hatred between Harry and Draco. I have a feeling I screwed it up again with this chapter, but I'll get it...I must get it...x.x; Now the subject of their true appearances actually won't be clarified (alluded to yes, but not downright stated) until very late into the story...maybe even in the sequel, if there is one. If I tell everyone the true purpose of their appearances, I feel like it becomes more of a...stereotypical "AMG WE'RE PROPHESIZED WITH SOME STRANGE YET BENEVOLENT PURPOSE!" stories -.O

_Yurikitsune:_ Aw, speechless. I've always taken the words "speechless" and "beautiful" to be the two highest forms of compliment. Perhaps it's because that's what I say to authors whom I truly admire. I'm really touched, thanks for the lovely review :)

_Lilsteves:_ Hmm, I'm not sure about the happy ending, but there will certainly be ups and downs in the story (okay, so mostly downs, but hey, that's what makes the ride exciting, no?) ;D

_Cat:_ Updated! XD; Thanks for the review, I take them all to heart :)

_Yaeko:_ What are they? Well, they are halves! No, not veela, not vampires, not...I don't know. They aren't a specific _thing_, merely a miracle that has been somehow placed into the world of Hogwarts (well, sort of? Read on to find out more ;D)

_Ambroisine:_ I agree. Harry/Draco is purrfect and purrty and purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Hope you enjoyed this chapter:)


	4. Facts and Theories

**A/N:** 18 Pages of goodness! (Sorta). I'm in a pretty numb mood, bad stuffs happened. I don't understand why some authors take fat breaks from being too emotional though—Pain fuels inspiration, in my opinion. Putting your feelings and your soul into your works is what makes something good. But that's just me. I'm weird, I know : (

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco dwell behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

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Masquerade – Facts and Theories

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"Take that back, Malfoy."

"Make me, Pottie."

A flutter of robes; a scuffling of shoes as fabrics crashed against each other.

"Someone get Professor McGonagall, they're at it again!"  
"Alert Madam Pomfrey, I bet there is going to be lots of broken bones!"

"Ooh, that must have bloody hurt! Get 'em, Potter!"

Professor McGonagall rushed through the mob, wildly pushing the students aside as she froze to gape at the sight before her. Malfoy straddled Potter's waist, trying to hold the brunette down with his lightweight frame as his pale hands gripped the Boy-Who-Lived's tanned throat. In response, Potter's upper body was up, partially in an effort to throw Malfoy off while his own slender arms were wrapped around the blonde's neck, choking him in return.

However, what scared her most was the expressions on the boys' faces; Potter smirked as he successfully kicked Malfoy off, taking his position on top of the now-scowling blonde. A minute after, it was Malfoy's turn to smirk as he pushed Harry back and jumped him, kneeing him effectively in the stomach and regaining dominance.

_By Morgana's best gown, it almost seems like they enjoy it._ The Transfiguration Professor thinks in utter shock.

As McGonagall opens her mouth to stop the two boys, she freezes for the second time as she remembered something Dumbledore told her not too long ago.

"_Minerva, have you seen any changes in our dear Harry recently?" He said calmly, twirling the sugar in his tea._

"_Why, no. Why do you ask?"_

"_The prophecy has been set into motion." Albus mused, ignoring McGonagall's sudden sharp gasp. "He will find his other half soon."_

"_Does that...does that mean he will be able defeat You-Know-Who?" She whispered._

_Dumbledore smiled softly, "Perhaps, if they learn to work together...or Harry will die, and we will lose the war."_

As she watched the two boys now, she began to scrutinize the boys' faces and actions. The two were always in contact, whether grabbing each other's robes or strangling the life out of the other, as if they craved physical touch—no, they _needed_ the closeness. Also, their eyes glinted strangely as they stared at each other; a faint trace of gold that lingered between the two. Her eyes widened.

_Are they each Halves?_ She closes her eyes, rubbing her temple. _I always thought of Harry's Half as his soulmate or lover, not Malfoy. Definitely not his enemy._

She ignored the voice telling her that the war was lost as she finally worked up enough determination to tell the boys to stop.

"Twenty points off both Gryffindor and Slytherin. I am extremely disappointed in you two." She says harshly, levitating the boys away from each other. "I would give the two of you detention, but apparently you two fight _during_ detention and when you are given separate detentions, one of you will always harass the other." She sighs again. "Now run along to Madam Pomfrey. If I catch either of you fighting, it'll be no more Quidditch for both of you!"

The boys stop glaring at one another and whip their heads at McGonagall.

"No more Quidditch?" Harry sputters. He looked like he was about to faint when McGonagall nodded in return.

"If you continue fighting, that is." She sniffs before sending the two dejected-looking boys to the infirmary and heading back to her classroom.

_You're right. _She tells the voice in her head. _The world is doomed._

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Pansy catches hold of my arm as I stalked out of the infirmary.

"Draco, what has gotten into you? You told us to ignore Potter and his group, then you go ahead and give him hell? Whatever happened to refined Dark Arts and hexxing?"

I sniff, giving her a glare. "What I do is none of your concern."

She runs after me as I strode off. "It is. Because I know that your father would not be pleased when he finds that the Malfoy heir is rolling on the ground with Harry Potter like a Muggle."

I whirl around to face her. "Never. Ever. Relate me to a Mudblood." I hiss, running from her as she cries my name.

I always knew that Malfoys were not to get into physical fights, opting for the option of sly planning and hexxing. A boxing match was...beneath them. Yet I defy them. I defy my father, my heritage, my inheritance, all for the sake of a small spar. I suddenly stop in my tracks.

If I could defy my life for a mere spar, could I defy my inheritance by...switching sides? Snarling, I punch the wall, hearing the satisfying crack of bone and the familiar pain jolting through my body.

_Stop while you're ahead, Malfoy._ I warn myself silently. _Tools don't need to think about these things._

Yet part of me continued to wonder why I'm always seeking out the scarred boy. I am constantly tempted to find the Boy-Who-Lived and quarrel until he gets mad and throws a punch. Granted, he does the same to me.

_It's because of our deep hatred for each other._ I tell myself, _I want to hurt him with my own bare hands._

Turning around the corner, I murmur a quick healing spell on my broken hand.

"I think you've made yourself very clear about the way you feel about us, Harry." A voice came from around the corner.

"'Mione, I'm sorry, ok? I was feeling very upset."

"Upset about what? Harry, all we tried to do was encourage you!"

"I know! And I am apologizing for my behavior! Ron! Don't look away from me like that!"

"Harry, I have never seen you angry like that before, and to be honest, it scares me, mate."

"Ron's right. You looked like you were about to attack us!"

"Almost like that one time Malfoy was angry and-"

"Talking behind my back? I thought Gryffindors would have the courage to tell it to my face." I dryly drawled behind the group, making them gasp and spin around, "now that I'm here, please, resume."

"Can't you see we're talking, Malfoy?" Hermione said crossly as she folded her arms over her chest.

Ignoring her, I look over the Golden Trio. "Where's the Weaselette? Did she finally get some sense knocked into her and decide to get better companions?"

Ron made a furious noise, but I switch my attentions to Potter. "And you, Harry Potter. Aren't you ashamed? Groveling and kissing the arses of your so-called friends."

"Bugger off, Malfoy! He's not going to get kicked from the Quidditch team because of you!" Ron snarls as Hermione linked a protective arm over Harry. I raise my eyebrow, a familiar heat flooding through my rigid body at the revolting sight.

Boldly, I walk towards Potter, smirking as Ron cautiously slinks back. Bending my face towards the Gryffindor and purposely turning my back to Hermione, I whisper to him: "Having fun with the Weasel's girl?" He flinches visibly and I turn around in a swirl of robes, cackling as I try to walk away from the ice-cold lump that had taken residence in my stomach.

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I heave another sigh as I rest my head on my arms in Divinations.

_Leave it to Malfoy to make my friends forgive me...Malfoy, of all people!_

I still did not understand why he chose to do so, but I also did not appreciate his remark towards me and Hermione. It made me feel guilty about how I am betraying my best friend by not rejecting Hermione's advances.

Why am I not rejecting her? I'm actually not quite sure; it may have started around the time Draco started cozying up to Pansy, but I know their relationship is only platonic—Pansy's been going steady with Blaise. I clench my fists.

_I am not jealous._

Why should I be? Draco made it clear that he hates me and that he expects the feeling to be reciprocated, not to mention we fight every chance we get.

_That's the thing,_ my mind reasons, _ever since you boys' first fight in the bathroom, you two have been intentionally seeking the other out for a brawl._

Speaking of seeking each other out, Draco should be in Advanced Arithmancy at this time...maybe I can catch him before dinne-

"Wha-?" I manage to stutter as a crystal ball was thrust in front of my nose. Trelawney stared at me with glazed eyes. "**_Dark encounters light, either cancelling existence or blending into dusk; destroying prophecies or completing fate. Your encounter with your other half will most likely result in utter destruction._**"

A chill goes down my spine as the professor murmured the words to me. Turning back, Professor Trelawney says loudly, "I see death in the near future, Harry Potter. You will destroy each other."

Grasping the hidden meanings, i look down sullenly.

_**Cancelling existence.**_

"I know." I softly whisper, "I know."

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Lucius sent me another letter asking why I had not disabled the wonderful Harry Potter yet.

'_You are a failure as a Malfoy and a disappointment as a son, Draco. Hurry and complete the mission before I am further ashamed.'_

Like it is just that bloody easy to walk up to my other Half and knock him out.

_Actually, it is quite simple._ My mind remarked, _you are just too weak to carry it out._

...And that is why I find myself hiding in the girl's bathroom, clutching the rims of the sink and threatening myself not to cry.

_If I put Harry into a coma, then the Dark Lord can easily carry out his plans—whatever they are—and our side will win. However, I have a strong feeling that I should not do it; rather, my entire being is screaming at me not to take action! Why? _

Now my elbows are on the rims of the sink as I cover my burning eyes with trembling hands.

_Being halves does not mean anything. I am not supposed to feel like I'm losing a part of myself! _

_...It'll be my fault when he's dead._

"Malfoy?" A voice mutters in bewilderment. I whirl around, blinking frantically to further restrain the salty liquid that threatened to spill over my face.

"What do you want, Potter?" I snap; my voice harsh and ragged.

"Are you-Are you _crying_?" He says wondrously; eyes widened in innocent confusion.

"Of course I'm not." I snarl back, turning around to face myself in the mirror.

_Then what are you doing in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?_ My reflection mocks Potter's next question; its sunken eyes gazing into mine as its lips curl into a smirk.

"SHUT UP!" I roar, smashing my arm into the glass as I quickly whirl around to face the Boy-Who-Lived.

_We mean nothing to each other, Potter. I'll do what Lucius orders and show you that tools do not feel!_

I leapt upon him before he could react, both of our wands sliding from our hands and under a stall as he utters a small cry of surprise.

Struggling to stay atop of the larger boy, I swing a clumsy fist at him. Unfortunately, Harry blocks it easily and topples me over in response.

"What is your problem?" He grits through his clenched teeth, shoving me harshly into the wall.

"_Just watch me, I'll disable the precious Golden Boy without magic!"_ I snarl, momentarily surprised by his stunned face before I realized that I had voiced my thoughts aloud. Then I had the satisfaction of wiping his expression off as I knee him in the stomach, causing him to drop me unceremoniously onto the linoleum.

I tackle him before he could move, lying completely on top of the boy in my desperation to throttle the famous Harry Potter. He harshly pushes me off and we swing to our feet, glancing warily at the other.

"Disable me?" He says uncertainly. I merely glance at him through narrowed eyes.

"I'm following my Lord's orders, what's it to you?" I smirk. He stiffens and glares.

"Without magic?" He questions again. This time it was my turn to stiffen.

"It's...a plan I made." I sniff, knowing that Potter did not believe my bluff. I stare into his eyes, "what? Think I'm too weak to catch you off guard?"

He smirks and walks up to me, staring me down with his sneering face. "With the way you are carrying on right now? I say bullocks-"

I snarl and swing at him, adrenaline rushing into my veins. Excitement coursed through our bodies and the Boy-Who-Lived tries to punch my face with inhuman speed. I dodge, countering it with a clawed swipe as he hops back, narrowing his gold-speckled eyes into mine before flying at me again. I feel my hair slowly grow longer as I snarl and fling Potter to the ground.

We roll around a few times, me landing a particularly satisfying blow to his head and he pushing my shoulder roughly into the wall. I sit on him, my lithe form even more petite against his larger frame.

_How come he gets all the masculine features?_ I silently grumble to myself as I proceed to throttle the breath out of Harry Potter—I seem to like doing that lately. He bares his sharpened teeth to me, using his larger muscles to push me flying literally into a wall. I crumple to the floor, grabbing at his legs and causing him to trip. We stumble over one another and as another strand of hair falls into my face, I feel my concealed ring burning.

Time stops as a crack forms onto Potter's glasses and we spring away from each other as if burned. Clutching the ring to myself, I slowly let a ragged breath out. Harry seemed to be doing the same; one clawed hand gripping the rim of the sink as he closed his eyes and breathe deeply.

"Don't get too excited now, Potter. We don't want your magic destroying your precious school, do we?" I drawl tiredly to my rival.

"Same goes for you, Malfoy." He answers back roughly. I stand up and stare at him, our true forms once again set in place and hidden. Wincing at a stray scratch mark on my cheek, I smirk to him: "shall we continue? Or does our brave little Gryffindor need more time?"

My feeling of triumph was short lived as Potter's eyes flashed open. "Don't mess with me, Draco!" He shouts, leaping at me with renewed fervor. Before I tell him that he does not deserve to call me by my name, I find myself facing an outrageously strong opponent in a completely new battlefield.

I clumsily catch him as he furiously leaps on me; hands extended and ready to break my neck. Momentum slams both of us unceremoniously into the cold wall and we are crushed against each other in a flurry of arms and robes.

I push at him, slamming his back into the wall and thrusting his head into the bricks as hard as I could; our lips are still attached together as my pale hands find their way up to his slender neck and his own slender ones begin to rip my robes apart. Now my hands have gone past their initial destination, opting to roughly grab his hair while his arms are glued to my back, scratching deep marks into the pale flesh.

As he pushes me back into the wall and assumes dominance, I become aware of his teeth painfully crushing against mine and I bite his lip harshly, eliciting a moan of pain from the spiteful Gryffindor. I smile at the metallic taste of his blood, but it quickly turns into a scowl as the Golden Boy mimics my actions, tearing at my own lips with vengeance.

Suddenly his hands are clutching my hips in a vice-like grip, bruising the sensitive skin while my own hands are back at his neck, embedding my nails into the bleeding skin. We try to suffocate each other with our tongues, neither backing down and Harry with the advantage as he crushes my lungs with his body. I feel his body press mine deeply into the wall and I begin to push him back-

_...Pissing, bloody wankers._

I wildly shove him off as he frantically staggers away from me. Both of us gasp at the sudden gust of frigid air and desperately breathe for what seems like eternity. Staring at each other with wide eyes, we are all too aware of our current sin.

"Tha-That was _disgusting!_" The words spill from my mouth as I snarl at him mercilessly, "Were you taking _advantage_ of me, Potter?"

The brunette had his sleeve over his mouth, trying in vain to soak up whatever had happened into the shredded fabric. "Bloody hell, Malfoy, how do I know that _you_ weren't the one taking advantage of _me_?" I feel sick to my stomach and I gaze down at the ground.

"...I'm no queer." I whisper determinately, wiping my tainted mouth roughly with what remained of my own tattered robe.

"Me neither." Harry whispers back after a brief hiatus and we lapse into an awkward silence. Keeping the quiet atmosphere, we swiftly make our way back to our respective dorms, too ashamed to even go to Madam Pomfrey for healing. It was much later in the night that I realized all of my wounds from our earlier battle were healed, the only injuries now being from our-_Potter's _disgusting encounter.

The boy in front of me was a pale, skinny nancy boy who trembled violently in a mixture of shame and fear as he desperately attempted to cover his frail body from the onlooker. His hair was a bloody mess, the crimson liquid dyeing his hair an orange-blonde. His mouth was a swollen and torn, as was the rest of his emaciated body and his silver-blue eyes were sunken and hollow. Lastly, the bruises on his hip were a mottled gray-purple and the scratches across his chest and back were puckered and bleeding.

"I hate you." The boy whispered harshly; the comment unclear as to who it was directed at—himself or the person of his tormented thoughts?

_Gold flashed wildly into gold._

Almost like a familiar habit, the glass shattered, its painful ringing matched with a psychotic sound that could be interpreted as either a laugh or a sob.

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"Rise and shine, Harry! We've got Quidditch practice to-Oh my Chudley Cannon stars! What in the bloody name of Hogwarts happened to _you_?"

I woke up, my bruised arm tiredly pushing away the mottled blankets, rough and encrusted with dried blood. I blinked lazily as I tried to smack my lips.

**Pain.**

I hiss and fall back onto the pillow, eyes now seeing stars and Trelawney's blasted crystal balls.

"Harry, talk to me, mate! Talk to me!" The voice panics, arms snaking around my shoulders and shaking me with painful force. I snarl, swiping at the limbs with an angry vengeance and was rewarded with a startled squeal. After what seemed like hours, I finally wince and sit up.

"Harry?"

"What?" I hiss.

"Have you...umm, have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?"

I look at Ron for the first time, my eyes widening in confusion. He says nothing, opting to levitate a mirror to me. My mouth turns dry and I stare dazedly into the reflection as the memories of last night rushed back to me.

Tired emerald orbs sink into a gaunt face marred with a bloody lip; the mess had dried into a disgusting dribble of brown across the chin. The slender neck was also a horrific mess; it seemed to have been mauled by an upset hippogriff by the depth of the multiple scratches. The blood from the mess led a trail down the back, showing many other numerous bruises and wounds.

I open my mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. Instead I push past Ron, diving into the showers to rinse myself of the violent deed.

"Harry, what about your...glasses?" A confused Ron feebly cries out behind my vanishing back.

Silence sweeps across the entire hall as I stalk in, their prying eyes greedily taking in my disheveled appearance; I irritably run a bruised hand into my bedraggled hair while another hastily tries to smooth the blasted robe which stubbornly stayed rumpled. With all the blood off, my lips were now a deep cherry with less swelling (Thank Morgana's wand for ice!)

"Harry! What in Hogwart's name happened to you?" Hermione cries out, placing gentle hands over my wounds.

I say nothing, glancing instead at the certain blonde Slytherin that had made my life turn upside down—well, even _more_ upside down, if that was even possible. He ignores me, looking as meticulous and clean as always.

_Lucky bastard got to bloody heal himself before anyone saw._ I snarl angrily to myself as I sit down, ignoring the questioning looks from the other Gryffindors.

"Were you fighting with Malfoy again?" Hermione continues to rave, placing her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes at me in frustration.

"Of course he hasn't, 'Mione," Ron defends, "That bloody ferret's looking smug as day, and without a drip of blood on him."

Now the Gryffindor girl looks perplexed. "Harry..."

"I don't want to talk about it. Please." I rumble hoarsely from my strangled throat, stuffing more bread into my wounded mouth. I wince.

_He bit my mouth to shreds, pissing wanker!_

Not to mention his trademark "I will throttle you to death" move was imprinted vividly even against my illusion-enhanced tan skin, right down to the grubby little finger prints.

When I entered potion's class, I almost expected the Slytherins to make some snide remark about Malfoy mauling me—because that's what Draco probably told all his cronies, as usual. Instead, I was greeted with stony silence and scorned ignorance, meaning the sneaky Slytherin had not spilled our dirty secret to anyone...yet.

"_I'm no queer."_ The words breeze through my ear, chilling my bones and causing me to shiver.

"Neither am I." I whisper back to myself, memories of our vivid...battle still in my mind. I clench my fists, walking to my seat and plopping myself down with the grace of the whomping willow.

Snape immediately strolls towards me, a sneer already marring his hideous face as the glint in his narrowed eyes told me that I was in for a treat.

"Potter," he acknowledged, "you've been in a fight, haven't you?"

I glance up at him coolly, "What makes you say that, Professor Snape?"

He regards me with caution now, slightly taken back by my un-Harry Potter response. "You realize that you will be removed from the Quidditch team if you fought again?"

"Oh yes, Professor Snape. As McGonagall said, '_If I catch either of you fighting, it'll be no more Quidditch for **both of you**!_'" I mimick the Transfigurations Professor, right down to her no-nonsense tone as I kept emphasis on the last three words. Now it is my turn to smirk as I see Snape's face pale. "I suppose it's the end of _Malfoy's_ and my career." I sigh with overblown regret.

The Potion's master seemed to freeze, unable to think of what to say. Instead, he clenches his jaw and roughly turns around, giving me the look that said I had entered hell in Potions.

"I can't believe you got out of Snape's wrath today, Harry! Brilliant move with the whole 'it's the end of Malfoy's career!' thing." Ron congratulates as we walk out of Potions.

"That was a very dangerous thing to do, but it _was_ such a satisfaction seeing Snape's face." Hermione agrees, "didn't know you had it in you."

I smile cheekily, placing a perfect blush on my round face as I look down in mock-modesty; playing the Boy-Who-Lived was a tough game, always having to stay innocent and all. When I look back up, I catch a glimpse of white, tempting me with its-

"Ready for lunch, mate?" Ron happily claps me on the wounded back, causing me to break concentration and wince.

"Ah, actually Ron, Snape is making me write twice the amount of essays the rest of you have to do, remember?" I remind him. "I'll be in the dorms to catch up."

Hermione falters, "but how will you eat?"

"Dobby." I say firmly, before giving both Gryffindors a reassuring pat on the shoulder and walking off.

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I lean against the cold stone wall, eyes closing as my eyebrows knit in silent confusion.

I do not understand, but when I saw Potter in the halls, I walked over to lure him into a brawl. However, the strange adrenaline rush that normally tore through my body suddenly gave a strong jolt. Almost immediately, Potter's eyes shot into mine and I fled, somehow knowing that he would come.

_I don't want him to come._ I murmur to myself.

_Then why are in an isolated hallway with naught but a soul and a few ghosts? _My chilling conscience whispers back.

_I'm in a bloody hallway so nothing can happen except a good fight._ I reassure it, _no unused classrooms, stupid bathrooms, or public areas where McGonagall will catch us._

I begin to slide down the wall, cursing my need for excitement and the fact that He was my other Half.

"_Further development of Halves will cause both victims to feel the other's presence and in some cases, pain. In addition, as they are naturally weak against poisons, both Halves are able to regenerate the other through contact and strong emotions."_

_**Victims.**_

_I am cursed._

Curling into myself, I grip my head with my strong fingers, wishing I could meld with the silent walls.

_This...thing is a curse._

My mind flew back to the library, where I had been leafing through the Restricted Section.

"_This curse has never been found, however it has been speculated on because of the ancient prophecy found in Merlin's time. Both Halves will be powerful wizards, able to use astounding amounts of magic and know the exact location of the other. However, Halves are known as a curse due to their destructive nature..."_

I flipped the next page, trembling fingers not believing what my eyes were taking in.

"_Although expected to live for centuries, it is an inevitable fact that the Halves will die much earlier before their time. It is impossible for either Half to survive without the other and if one Half dies, the other will immediately kill him or herself."_

A small whimper escapes my lips upon the memory, willing myself that it was all a lie.

"_Countless prophecies on Halves have stated that the curse will rear its ugly head in the greatest time of need; a sacrificial pair, in better words. Both unlucky individuals are destined to die tragic deaths for a cause."_

With stunning realization, I now knew why Mother had not wanted me to tell Lucius.

_He will kill me, just to kill Potter._

Blood froze within my veins as another misunderstanding was added to my already puzzled mind. _Why –shouldn't- I die for the cause? As a tool, is it not my duty?_

I frown, my hands slowly dropping from my face. _What's holding me back?_

"Malfoy."

My eyes shoot open and I turn around, gazing at Him with startled eyes. His own eyes widened as he stepped back.

"My word...is that really true?" He whispers.

"What is?" I nervously stutter, eyes flitting around erratically.

"The whole...Restricted Section, Halves, thing." He finishes lamely.

I shoot up, fists clenching as I shout, "Who told you? How do you know? How _would_ you know?"

"You told me?" He says again, obviously perplexed by my outburst, "What? Didn't you just say—Oh."

We were two silent beings, both unable to describe what just happened; unable to admit the maturing curse that was beginning to form within us. However, being the Boy-Who-Lived, He spoke first.

"I...I looked into your eyes and you told me. " Potter broke the silence, "it was almost like telepathy?"

"That's disgusting, Potter." My clipped tone seemed unusually curt and cold, "who would want a link to a filthy mind like yours?"

His head snaps up, gold flashing as he snarls back, "You, apparently! Why am I stuck with you, of all people? Cursed to die with you as well!"

A maniacal grin runs across my face as I throw my hands up in strange excitement, "That's it! I could tell the Dark Lord and have him kill me, thus ending your own pathetic existence!" I smirk into his stunned face.

"But that's impossible." He recovers, looking into my wild eyes, "My existence makes it impossible for you to deliberately get indirect help in killing me."

"What are you raving about, Potter?"

He steps closer. "According to the prophecy, only you can kill me—if I kill you in return. **Cancelling existence**." The pieces of the puzzle fit together.

"That's why the Dark Lord was unable to kill you..." I whisper, shocked enough to step back and stumble.

He grabs my arm and pulls me tantalizingly close to his still-swollen lips. "Don't you see? We can cancel our existence or blend together and form a being more powerful than any that ever lived."

I tremble in his grasp, "you weren't supposed to be the smart one." I whisper back in defeat. I can feel him smirk and a white rage begins to consume my mind.

"You're supposed to be Harry bloody Potter! The absolutely mindless, innocent Boy-Who-Lived!" I spit, tearing myself from the Gryffindor's iron grip. "You're not supposed to be the other Half of me that only I can kill!"

"Want to try?" He jokes, jeering at me with his cruel smirk.

"Gladly." I snarl back, pouncing at him with a growl.

He hisses in return, flinging to my ground and straddling me in a display of dominance. I bite his hand before punching his face, earning myself a resounding crack. We roll around the floor of the empty halls, our familiar dance starting again as he manages a blow to my jaw.

In the end, a candle mark later, we lie panting on the floor, kilometers apart from the other.

"Bloody Mordred, you're right." I gasp to the boy, "I can't seem to rip your bloody head off without you taking hold of my own neck."

"At least we get some excitement out from it all." He answers smugly as I glare at him.

_Harry Potter is not supposed to be smug and dark—nor is he supposed to be the masculine one._

His smirk turns wider as I realize that he had somehow...heard what I was saying. I hiss at the bloody Gryffindor for somehow reading my mind.

"The masculine one, hmm?" He chuckles, "I suppose you _do_ look like a girl..."

"Shut up, Potter." I growl again, swiping at him from the floor.

We rise and tackle each other again. I knee him successfully in the stomach, causing him to gasp before he barrels into my chest, making me fall with a grunt.

He crawls on top of me, holding my face with his two large hands as I tear into his hair. He begins to suffocate me, but I do the same, hoping he would run out of air before me.

I manage to roll him over, pressing into his taut stomach with my bony knee and elbows over his lungs. He emits a low growl as I smirk into his mouth. However, it is my turn to gasp in shock as he lifts me up and we reverse positions.

_Don't lift me up! You're not supposed to be that strong! _I mentally scream at him in frustration.

_You being –feminine- and light makes it pretty easy._ He crows back and I press against him in silent rebellion.

His hand crawls up my robes and my lengthened nails are already digging into his back. I, like he, am aware of our illusions falling and the sensations between us are doubled. I force him to hiss in pain as I bite onto his already wounded lip and he tears a new wound into mine. Then I trace a sharpened claw over his face-

"For Merlin's sake, not again!" We shriek, scooting away from the other in record speed.

"Potter, I already told you. Stop taking advantage of me." I snap as the emerald eyed boy wipes blood from his face.

"Shut it, Malfoy. The feeling is mutual." He hisses back.

We glare at each other for a while, the lump of icy desperation and revulsion forming in our gut. I say nothing, our strong feelings already projecting into each other. Instead, I stalk off, murmuring softly-spoken healing spells onto both of us.

"Wouldn't want anyone to find out we've been dueling again." I say coldly before walking out of the hallway.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The cold metal melded softly—yet dangerously—into my skin as my fingers trailed across the glistening reflection of the mirror.

_I did it again._

The boy who stood before me had a soulful look upon his porcelain face, eyes drooped precariously low for a Malfoy; he certainly looked like he was about to howl in anguish and cry.

_But Malfoys never cry—We bleed._

In a haze of illusion, the mirror shimmers as a sudden trail of red began to bleed out of one eye.

I blink; the crimson path was gone, but I still felt its aching presence.

I remember battling with Potter, taking in the excitement with delightful relish. Lowering my head in shame, I shiver in guilty treason.

_And when **It** happened, there was naught but adrenaline and desire._

I begin to cough as I choke back a sob. Slapping myself hard, I glance back into the mirror. The boy now looked at me with wide, frightened eyes; his mouth was slightly agape and his lips trembled with fear as a red blemish spread quickly over his right cheek. Gingerly I raised my sinned hand onto that same bruised cheek, brushing softly against the damaged skin.

_Why can't I stop this insanity? This...This **monster**?_

What I would not give to cleanse his breathe from my skin; the curse—no, _disease_ from my blood.

I turn my wand onto myself, urging myself to whisper the two words that would end everything; the two faithful words that would result in victory for the cause.

"A—Ava-" I begin to choke, perspiration clinging from my brow as I struggle to relax my constricting throat.

_Maybe if this continues I'll suffocate myself._

Instantly the restriction releases me, and I fall gasping harshly against the floor.

"_My existence makes it impossible for you to deliberately get indirect help in killing me"_

My throat is now emitting a low, harsh cough—perhaps it is laughter? It chuckles a bit more and I lean my head back at the pitiful state of the situation.

He was right. Nothing I do can kill him; nothing _anyone _does can kill him. In fact, the damned curse that had inhabited me since birth prevents anything I do to harm him.

_Unless I kill him in battle—or he kills me._

The sad irony of the situation nearly left me in tears again. My knees knocked together in violent fear as I pictured Lucius' disapproving look. The cold man looked disgustedly upon my crouched, shaken form, sneering at me:

"_I raise you to be a Malfoy, and you cannot even grant me the satisfaction of seeing you destroy Harry Potter."_

His arm then rose slowly from his graceful robes, fingers brandishing his glowing wand. Almost as beautifully, his scowling mouth would whisper the two blessed words to end my wretched misery and complete humiliation.

Yet I knew I would not die.

Instead, I would be—Oh I don't know—maybe _scarred_ like the bloody Boy who I am hopelessly fated to go against. Then Lucius would discover the truth, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will have the utmost appreciation of having his most faithful follower hand over the Boy-Who-Lived's other Half, all ready for torture and pain.

_As long as it pleases the Lord and helps his cause, that is a good thing...right?_

In the very instant, I had found another painful flaw:

**Utter condemnation.**

I howl and whimper, scratching the walls with my bloodied nails. Why? Why am I afraid of what I had been bred to do? Raised to become a Deatheater, it had almost been a dream of mine to live in utter subservience.

_That is what tools do. Tools are used._

_**Tools are disposed of.**_

I shiver, once again reducing myself to a quivering lump of flesh against the wall. I begin to hate the emptiness that helped numb the utter desperation of which my body had been trained against. How I wish to scream and cry; to fling a dozen hexes at the rules which bound me to my fate.

_Malfoys never cry._

_Malfoys do not have weaknesses._

_Malfoys feel nothing._

_Malfoys do not **love.**_

I scratch furtively on my arm, relishing the instant sting as the only strength in my struggle for feeling. Yet I was still numb; so very, very numb. The ease of which I slipped into my mask and covered my feelings with an overdose of blissful anesthetic now scares me.

_I want to **feel**! _Part of me wails inside my head, and yet the other side of me says...nothing.

It is just a blank, empty, emotionless vast of space which inhabits my inner soul; a black hole, sucking up and obliterating anything that I felt.

_I should be sad; I should be frustrated! Depressed! Let me **feel**, for Salazar's sake!_

_**I want to feel!**_

Yet there was nothing to help the lone boy that sobs within the mirror; nothing that could be done to aid the stoic boy as he gasps, emotionless face twitching and convulsing in an effort to drop a tear.

There was no one for the young Malfoy, who was forced to suffer his contradicting affairs alone and in absolute pain—and like salt on a wound, _he knew it._

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

_I did it. I fucking bloody smashed my lips onto Malfoy's._

Slumping over my desk in Transfigurations, I ignore the droning of the Professor as I thought of the past month. Nothing had changed, really. Of course, that was if one could ignore the countless duels and secret encounters for...battle.

_Which always ends with our faces smashed together._ I think dryly to myself, snorting at the indecency of the situations. _And yet I continue to go to him, as he does to me._

"Harry Potter, are you listening?" Professor McGonagall questions abruptly; she seemed to be in a bad mood.

"Of course, Professor." I groan to myself, rolling my head to the side in a very un-Harry-Bloody-Potter-like way. The whole blasted classroom now seemed interested in what I was doing; mouths agape in shock and wondrous confusion at goody-two-shoes Harry being a naughty boy.

"Really? Kindly transform this quill into a hissing serpent with wings." McGonagall persists, raising a well-arched eyebrow at me. "It should be simple—if you were listening, that is."

I sigh, grasping my wand carelessly as I point it haphazardly at the chosen object. Whispering a few words, the feathered quill was now a large serpent which hissed and spread its dark, feathery-yet-spiked wings at the class. McGonagall had gone a shade paler, recoiling back in fear as shock etched across her pristine features.

"That was-That is...not supposed to be able to be done!" She cries out.

I turn to her, eyebrows raised. "You told me to do it." I accuse.

"It was a test to see if you were really listening!" She cries again; obviously distressed.

"You cannot transform an object of that size—correction: a _nonliving_ object of such a minute size into...well, into that." Hermione corrects, whispering to me as she unnecessarily grabs onto my robes.

And that was how I found myself back in Dumbledore's office, being offered silly Lemon Drops as the entire school was once again buzzing on "Harry Potter's new powers."

Albus slowly stirred his tea, relishing the faint smell that it emitted. "So, Harry my boy, how did this happen?" He questions casually, as if he were asking why I did not want any of his sweets.

"I don't know." I reply evenly back, only a small smile remaining on my defeated mask.

"It seems like your powers are growing." The old man mumbles, "I wonder how that could happen without finding your other Half."

I bristle. "I am sure I am capable of gaining new strengths without-"

"Harry," the wizard interrupts, "you are incapable of even surviving poison without your other Half."

"But I survived the Chamber of Secrets!" I insist.

"That is a different story," Albus secretly smiles, "one which I should not name."

My jaw clenches and finally, I lean back onto the chair in defeat.

"What has become of me, Headmaster?" I whisper sullenly.

"You need to be in contact with your Half to mature, and the powers compel you to do so—or so the books say." Dumbledore chuckles.

My head shoots up, glancing at the wizened man in non-disguised shock.

_So Malfoy and I have been fighting to gain power?_

"Indeed, this must be in preparation for the final battle." Dumbledore continues to muse. "The preparation in which both of you must decide whether to combine or cancel in the final confrontation."

...Not even bathing in the evening winter waters could have chilled my body as much as his very words.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My fingers slide across the polished wood, gently caressing the precious object which I had claimed as my own.

It was an object which I had smuggled in secrecy from my father; an object which could lead to shameful humiliation and utter death—not that I _could_ die anymore.

In my arms I embraced a beautiful Muggle acoustic guitar.

It shimmers softly as I run my fingers over the delicate strands in strange familiarity. _Shame that Lucius' own son is actually a secret Muggle-lover._ I scoff to myself.

Playing a soft tune, I once again reminisce of the one time that I had heard the light, heavenly sound of the guitar, which had sparked my beginning interest in the blessed instrument.

I strum over the strings again, relishing the lingering sound as my eyes closed. A noise appears behind me, but I play it off as imaginative fear. After all, as usual, I had cast my strongest Silencing charm onto the room, and no one knew my password, anyway.

Lightly thrumming the polished instrument into a familiar rhythm, I begin to shake my head softly in tempo. The shifting of the mattress that I sat in only enhances the playful beat and the sudden whisper of soft hair upon my neck makes me smile and shift towards the source of warmth.

"Malfoy?"

Time freezes and sound grows still as the deafening roar of my racing heart is silenced only by the ice cold fear that exploded in my chest.

"Potter."

* * *

**AN: **Yup, it gets kinda confusing, doesn't it? Well, if it is...please review and question me on it. I'm only too happy to clear it up :) This chapter was actually quite easy to write, as I had some very...personal emotions in it. The most recent being the entire realization of masks that lead to utter numbness and isolation. Argh, being Emu is bad! Hmm, yup, a sort of info-filled chapter, along with HarryDraco romance! (If you could even call it that yet...)

**PS (cliche?):** I hope I did not make a cliche in this. Or at least...a really bad one. I do not quite like how this Half thing is turning into a blasted...bond or something. ARGH. Hence why I'm making their abilities somewhat erratic. Not to mention the whole "AMG WE'RE BONDED LETS SMOOCH AND BE MATES FOREVERRRRRR." Ugh. –shivers- I'll try my best to stop the rampaging cliches! (But admit it, there are many, many of those suckers to fight off.)

**PSS (wrong book?):** Err, I alluded that our dear little Potty was poisoned in the Chamber of Secrets...please don't view me as a naive Potter-novice (though with my bad memory I might as well be), but he _was_ poisoned in that book yesh? Or was it...something else? Aargh. Short term memory is bad.

**Next Chapter:**

So who caught Malfoy? What other little Muggle things does our favorite Slytherin like? And...what of his plan to disable Potter? Will it come to be? Or how about the persistent question of..."Will Harry and Draco _ever_ get together!"

**Shoutouts: (I love the 8 of you. I really do.) :D**

_Kiera Riordan:_ Aww, the poor Slytherin has much to do before he attains bliss. BUT! Waiting only brings out a erm, happier ending? Did that even make sense? XD

_Yurikitsune:_ The Sacrifices Arc? Hmm, I don't believe I've read that before. Got a link? I'm curious now XD And I definitely know what you mean about those "Insult, Kiss, and Make up" fanfics. Reading all those have made me realize...that is not what I want :D Thanks for your continuing support! You brighten my day. : )

_CharizardRulz-Cyborg009Wolf:_ Haha, yea. That whole "making out" insinuation was quite deliberate ;D Afterall, what is HarryDraco without tantalizingly sensual erm...scenes?

_iNsAnE nO bAkA:_ Indeed. I had actually planned that chapter to have more development and for this chapter to be running rampant with romance. However, after reading the last two books again, it doesn't seem very realistic nyeh? Oh, and thanks for your absolute support:D I love seeing familiar reviewers—it makes me smile, it really does. : )

_Chaney:_ Ah, Brokeback's beautiful. Watch it. ;D Well, its just that the whole "I'm no queer!" phrase was coincidentally in Brokeback, so narf D: And I agree, I love the whole BENEVOLENT PURPOSE! Fics too, but sometimes...we just need a little breather from all that lovey dovey shtuffs! XD As for how other people view them...man things will heat up when I begin writing that. Hogwarts will explode ;D

_SpeechlessQuestion:_ Hahaha, maybe I'm a sadist, but I like to shove in as much angst and pain as I can before reaching Heaven. Or that's just me o.o I'm definitely not abandoning this—I've done so much outlining and planning it's almost sad!

_Ambroisine:_ Hehe, I agree. Cliched fics are lovely, but suffocating amongst the sea of them. Thanks for your lovely review: )

_Celeste Jacobs:_ Why, thank you! Hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

**Review and Criticism are welcome (Flames are...not really, but hey, it fuels my review count...bloody wankers). **You have no idea how much reviews spur me on—or maybe you do, being authors yourselves : )


	5. Muggle Times

**A/N:** Hi all! This chapter is exceptionally lighter than the first four, filled with Muggle moments and classic Harry/Draco bonding sessions! Hence the name, Muggle Times ;D Of course, there is also a signature amount of darkness within these happy times, and the next chapter is...a rather sharp contrast to this one, I believe. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco dwell behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

**

* * *

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Masquerade – Muggle Times

* * *

_Lightly thrumming the polished instrument into a familiar rhythm, I begin to shake my head softly in tempo. The shifting of the mattress that I sat in only enhances the playful beat and the sudden whisper of soft hair upon my neck makes me smile and shift towards the source of warmth._

"_Malfoy?"_

_Time freezes and sound grows still as the deafening roar of my racing heart is silenced only by the ice cold fear that exploded in my chest._

"_Potter."_

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Neither of us talk; instead, we look at each other—calm gold against vibrant, shocked ones.

Malfoy's sudden movement breaks us from our trance as he rapidly hides his guitar behind him in child-like guilt.

"I can still see the handle of it peeking from the top of your head, you know." I murmur absently, smirking to myself as Malfoy curses and tucks the instrument under his bed.

"What in blazes are you doing here, Potter? And how did you know my password?" He hisses as he scoots away from my smug form.

_I'm not supposed to be here...?_

Now it was my turn to stare at him in sudden surprise.

"I...good question; I don't know."

"What do you _mean_ you don't know? Potter, no one is _that_ gullible, least of all me." Malfoy explodes.

"I just heard something, okay? I heard a melody of some sorts, and next thing I knew I was right next to you!"

"Like it is just _that_ easy to get pass the Slytherin commons and into my bed." Comes the sarcastic reply.

I roll my eyes. "Shove it, Malfoy. I told you; I heard some music, then I had somehow gotten past everything and found myself...here. Afterwards, I was shocked to see you playing the guitar and-"

"I'm no mudblood lover!" He spits immediately; a frenzied look in his eyes.

"Bloody hell, just calm down, you unstable prat!" I shout, grabbing his arms as he tries to flee, "I don't care if you like certain Muggle things, alright? I—like you—just want to know how and why I am here."

Malfoy blinks, suddenly switching back into his calm self. "Are our Half powers evolving? But what have we done to warrant such growth?"

A recent memory floods my mind. "Dumbledore said that we fight all the time in order to gain power!" I blurt. Malfoy's contemplating eyes, which had been gazing into his lap, snap towards me in full clarity.

"Is that why we are suddenly reading each other's minds, knowing the other's locations, and" Malfoy sneers at his last remark, "stalking the other into his bed?"

"Can't you just lay off that?" I snarl back, "apparently our powers have also been increasing dramatically." At Malfoy's skeptical glance, I snap, "didn't you hear about today's transfiguration in McGonagall's class?"

"Of course I did, "he drawls, "Harry-bloody-Potter is able to transform a quill into a monster."

Patience wearing thin, I slap him. Ignoring his painful curses and cries, I continue. "I believe that every time we are in contact with each other our powers increase, and our natural Half's need for power gives us an uncanny urge for fighting."

Both of us ignore the topic of suffocating the other; after all, it was not necessary...was it?

Now I see Malfoy fiddling with his guitar pick. "So when did you learn how to play?" I question, eyebrow rising curiously as Malfoy quickly drops the plastic as if burned. "Come off it, Malfoy, indulging in something you like isn't a sin."

"Tools never indulge." He automatically states before he realizes what he said. Bowing to my skeptical look, he confesses, "I've been secretly learning."

"Play something for me." I whisper softly, not wanting to destroy the suddenly peaceful atmosphere.

"It's-I don't know much." He admits, "I've been trying to learn from an ancient Muggle book that I found but..." He quiets as I hand him the pick and he takes the wooden instrument out.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was almost like a dream.

Here I was, with bloody _Potter_ sitting next to me, playing a Muggle guitar in peaceful harmony.

_We aren't fighting each other this time, _I muse amusedly, _or trying to tear each other's lips apart, for that matter. _My face darkens into a grimace at the thought.

I am painfully aware of our situation: the Dark Lord is at his most powerful stage, leaving the entire wizard world bloody full of traitors and cowards. In addition, Harry is supposed to be the light savior of the word; innocent and bright, the epitome of goodness.

However, here we are sitting on a Slytherin bed in a Slytherin room as I, Draco Malfoy the spiteful "Deatheater-to-be", play a Muggle guitar and Harry Potter, the Golden "Gryffindor Savior" smiles and taps his foot to my tune.

_I wish I could stay like this...for a while._

I dare not say 'forever', for I knew it would break my hopes when we return to reality. This peaceful, relaxing coalition that we had somehow forged in dire times...I never want it to be broken.

The Gryffindor looks at me with his cheery eyes and I smile back, a genial curve creasing my own blue-grey orbs.

"So what other things do you like to do?" He laughs.

"I like to cook." I respond immediately. Potter chokes and he laughs some more.

"I never thought I'd hear the words "Malfoy" and "cook" in the same sentence!" he gasps; his large grin steadily becoming contagious.

"I will cook better than you ever will, Potter." I say smugly, "muggle books and house elves have taught me well."

Lapsing into an easy silence, it is my turn to interrogate him: "So what do _you_ like to do?"

He ponders over it for a few seconds, partially distracted by the soft strumming of the guitar. "I-this is embarassing." He laughs nervously, "I like to sing."

"_Potter? Singing?"_ I choke in laughter, "you're pulling my robe!"

"What? Am I too..._uncouth_ and _uncivilized_ to be a good singer?" He mocks, "or is it because I'm too masculine?"

I roll my eyes at his jibe. "I'm the one playing the guitar here, Potter; the masculine one is me. Now tell me a song I can play and you can sing to."

His eyes brighten at the idea and he eagerly tells me a song he had been thinking of for a long time.

"...Harry Potter the Romantic?"

"Just play it, Malfoy...and stop chuckling!"

_Wish I could lay down beside you  
On a blanket in a park somewhere  
With some music and some wine maybe  
Your gentle arms around me _

I wouldn't wish for anything more  
except that time would stand still

It was beautiful and almost surreal; his lilting, suave tenor matching my tentative, amateur plucks of the guitar.

_I wouldn't wish for anything more  
except that time would stand still_

It was an unspoken agreement; a similar thought which had formed our temporary truce. Most importantly, it was a wish; a wish that we had lived in better times without our bonds and chains. The beautiful melody surrounds me; its playful breeze shifting through my hair and across my closed eyes. It flies between me and the Gryffindor in a collage of brilliance and beauty; however, just as soon as it had begun, it fled.

We sat side by side, breathing softly as the music slowly descends and silence once again reigns the Slytherin room.

I smile slightly. "So it seems we have got ourselves an up and rising singer here in Hogwarts." I praise him, watching his merry face turn a shade darker at the compliment. "But why such a sappy song? I always thought of you as either the dark type or the 'happy-go-lucky' sorts."

Potter smiles, gazing at me with a curious expression. "It is a dream for me; to be free of masks and able to live without having something pressured onto every decision that is made." Upon my confused look, he fiddles with his fingers and awkwardly clarifies, "well, to participate in such simple pleasures—like a picnic—is impossible for people like us, and to be able to experience such peace is..." He trails off, unable to say more, but I understood.

In response, my hands stop grazing the strings and I turn somber. "Then I suppose it's my favorite song too."

Harry glances at me, eyes flitting over my own. "I know you want to destroy me for your cause, but sometimes...I wish that we were free from our confines and able to choose our own choices."

_To be free._

"I know what you mean." My throat constricts painfully and a sticky lump seems to close my mouth. I swallow loudly and look away. Daring to pat me on the back, Potter stands up.

"I really wish it had turned out differently." He whispers to me, hand lingering on my sensitive flesh longer than intended before walking out the door and...

_Morgana, he just bloody apparated within school bounds!_

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_And I pretend  
You were mine  
And you'd never ever leave  
And I would make you feel  
The only place to be  
Is where there's music, some wine and me_

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Harry! Sweet Merlin, HARRY! WAKE UP!" A shrill voice screams into my ear. Upon my groan of displeasure, insistent hands begin to shake me awake, forcing my eyes open.

"Ron, stop joggling me before I turn your Chudley Cannon posters into Slytherin doormats!" I threaten irritably.

"You wouldn't dare...But that's not the point! Come to the dining hall, HURRY!"

Following Weasley's orders, I rush down to breakfast, as blurry eyed and grumpy as Filch on a bad day. Coincidentally, the most...awkward moment in all of Hogwarts also occurred the same moment I stepped foot into the hall.

Everyone—students and professors alike—in the school of Hogwarts gazed stupidly at the enlarged photos, mouths wide and agape in public shock and disgust.

Hung proudly on the gigantic slab of stone were various pictures of me and Malfoy wrestling each other during our public fights—which there was nothing wrong with, of course. However, ignoring the blood and bruises, the pictures were as follows:

-Malfoy on all fours with me on top of him as I try to pull the Slytherin up and throttle him to oblivion (the blasted picture paused after I heave him halfway up and repeats...)

-Malfoy straddling me, his face dangerously close to my own as he vainly tries to bite my nose (that photo conveniently pauses after he opens his mouth and moves toward mine)

-Me punching Malfoy and falling into a disheveled heap onto the floor, legs entwined and arms intimately around each other. (bloody snapshot also caught a few bits of the aftermath as we roll around furiously on the ground)

...There's nothing wrong with the photos, of course not.

"MERLIN'S BLOODY SOCKS, I'M HEXXING WHOEVER TOOK THESE INTO NEXT YEAR!" I roar, ignoring the shocked looks of the Gryffindors around me.

"Who took them?" I snarl at Hermione, almost smirking at her huddled form.

"I-I believe it was Colin Creevey." She stutters back, too scared to look me in the face.

Eyes darkening furiously, I turn towards the boy, ready to cast a fabulous jelly legs curse that would disable him for days. Unfortunately, I was too late; Draco Malfoy, along with his two bodyguards, were already dragging the poor boy out the hall.

"Mordred's wand, Harry," Hermione starts, "if we had not known that you two were fighting during those pictures we would have thought-"

"You two were shagging!" Ron says in absolute disgust, his face turning green as he miraculously pushes his half eaten breakfast away, "the revulsion! Ugh!"

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_What if I could hold your hand and kiss you  
And you'd feel nothing except we felt this right  
You'd forget about time and spend the night  
There, on a blanket in a park_

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I enter Snape's classroom, ignoring the blatant snickers and chortles as I take a seat. Crabbe and Goyle glower at anyone who dares point fingers and I slam my supplies onto the abused desk; it was all I could do to avoid killing everyone on sight.

Sighing angrily, Pansy pats me on the arm sympathetically and Blaise sends me mischievous grins. However, I allow a small smirk to grace my flawless face when I find out that Colin Creevey had been sent to Madam Pomfrey's...I suppose his strange growth of revolting, mysterious lumps were too obvious to ignore.

My fist clenches again, but this time not in anger; rather, in desperate fear as the coldness in my veins become frigid and stabs into the black hole of my chest. Deep within the hidden depths of my demented mind, I knew: Lucius Malfoy would be alerted of the suspicious looking pictures and would demand an explanation.

Staring down at my scroll, pitifully devoid of notes, I saw the truth; even if I manage to convince Lucius that Harry and I were not performing public lewd acts, I would still be punished for being...a _Mudblood_ and beating a man with fists instead of dignified hexxing.

"Draco? You still alive? You haven't been responding for almost an hour!" Pansy squeals nervously, tugging at me, her frozen Potions partner.

"I'm breathing." I respond; voice tinged with an irritating amount of wariness.

"Draco?" She questions again. I harshly brush her offending arm from my shoulder and begin to cut random weeds, falling into a mindless cycle.

_Lucius stands over me, sneering as I lay crumpled and twitching on the floor. He hisses to me, "You deserve punishment, don't you?" Instead of waiting for an answer, he whispers what he is going to do, relishing each shiver and whimper that I make._

Hiccupping in fear, my trembling pale hands drop the blunt knife and reach for my constricted throat in shock. I had already resigned myself to a path of disappointment, and punishment was not a rare occurrence. Therefore, it was unbelievable that I would be traumatized to such a degree over this...minor problem.

_Anything to do with Harry Potter or Mudbloods is a big complication._ My reflection appears again, this time conveniently located in the dirty metal of the silver knife. The image gleams with a morbid glow, dull shadows casting hideous darkness over the prominent features of the figure.

_But tools do not feel! It does not matter of the importance of the issue._

My other self smirked confidently. _Why do you feel? Perhaps you are a faulty tool?_

_...Faulty?_

_Most likely. In fact, you must be an incredibly shoddy tool with the number of cracks and damages you have._

Almost as if someone had cast "Lumos" into my mind, I awaken into frightening reality.

_I'm broken._ A whisper breezes past my head, touching my ear lightly.

_Yes, _the knife says smugly, _and unable to be fixed. _

I pick up the sharp instrument, staring at it in fascinating wonder. Vaguely, I hear Pansy questioning me again—this time with a note of panic in her voice.

_You might as well dispose of yourself now; the Dark Lord has harsher methods of eliminating useless tools._

Another "Lumos" flashed into my head, making my eyes flutter dazedly as the implication rang true in my skull.

_**You are useless.**_

I nod respectfully towards the figure in the metal knife, and he laughs in response.

**_Do it now, before it is too late!_**

"OH MERLIN NO! DRACO!"

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_And I pretend  
You were mine  
And you'd never ever leave  
And I would make you feel  
The only place to be  
Is where there's music, some wine and me_

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The shriek sprinted around and out of the stilled room, racing past the hallways and into the kitchens. Behind it, the din had left silence and utter shock in its wake as its companion Stench grew prominent.

Along with everyone else, I freeze as the first sound hits my ears, fingers paused in mid-air, inches from touching the tail of bloodworm. Soon after, the cauldrons break the silence, exploding in a glorious blaze of fiery shrapnel from being left untended for too long. People scream and take cover, diving under desks and casting weak barriers around themselves.

I fall to the floor along with most of the class, numb hands hitting my equally painless chin. After the dust clears, instead of smelling the burnt ingredients of the potions, an unmistakable stench had usurped its throne.

**Blood.**

Its heavy scent wafted arrogantly over the classroom, almost fashionably late as it calmly descends upon the chaos, covering the smell of failed potions and distracting the students from the initial explosion.

Those who had never smelt the stench of blood before retched or quickly covered their noses, looking for the source of the odor. However, the ones who knew the familiar scent—me and Snape—widened their eyes as realization dawned upon them.

"Anyone injured?" Snape shouts above the din, looking vainly for sight of blood or broken limbs.

_Draco._

Gasping, I close my eyes and appear before the pale boy. Pansy had fallen over him in a dead faint, her bloodied hands still quivering on their own in fear. I desperately yank the Slytherin female aside, my heart already knowing what had transpired.

The pale boy lay in all his glory; short wisps of blonde falling messily over his tightly shut eyes while his pale face slowly grew sallow. His tinted lips are now a rosy red, stained in the blood that spilled messily from his mouth; his now-morbidly beautiful mouth clearly stood out amongst his bloodless face, similar to a drop of blood in snow.

His legs were sprawled awkwardly, tangled amongst themselves like swirling autumn leaves during his inopportune fall. His thin body was twisted to the side as his thin arms embraced the dagger embedded deeply in his chest.

The hilt was almost hidden, lost within the flesh that consumed it, bidding it closer. Delicate fingers, now stained with crimson rain, loosely grazed the growing stain on the once-immaculate robes.

The boy did not breathe.

"Draco..." I whisper, eyes widening, "you can't die, Draco!"

Oblivious to my words, the Slytherin lay unmoving upon the dusty ground and I could feel his fragile body losing its warmth. His mouth hung slack and his closed eyes slowly relaxed into dull, lifeless orbs, half-lidded and unwelcoming.

"You can't die unless we kill each other! You can't just stab yourself like that!" I whisper passionately into his ears, praying to whichever higher magical being existed that our theories on the prophecy and Halves were true.

Like a heavy fog, fear and desperation invaded my senses, making me unable to think. Mind blown and upturned, I sit dumbly on the bleeding floor, crimson gradually staining my oversized trousers as I stare at the body before me.

"_It is impossible for either Half to survive without the other and if one Half dies, the other will immediately kill him or herself."_

I shake my head. _No! That would only happen if it was by accidental means such as getting hit by a Muggle train or poisoned without the other Half present! The theory must be right! Draco cannot be dead and I..._

My eyes flicker towards the instrument that had been so well received by my other Half. With great determination and a hard clench of my jaw, I gingerly pluck the sharpened object from Draco Malfoy. Blood splashes heavily onto my face from the wound, but I am too focused upon the gleaming point of the weapon to notice. I sense my body growing numb; my eyes begin to blur and my hands struggle to hold the knife.

I raise it to my pulsing throat.

**Death.**

_Draco is not dead; he can't be dead. He's my other Half! He..._

**_Draco Malfoy is mine!_**

With a shrill cry, I hurl the dark weapon away and crush the boy's cold body into a steel embrace.

I became vaguely aware of my sharp sobs and His blood seeping into my robes; I felt his being smear itself across my face and bury itself into my hair. Ignoring the staunch smell of the ruby fluid and for reasons unknown, I continue to crush the corpse to my own body.

I knew I had Changed. My illusion had disappeared and my wet golden eyes now flash narrowly into the green robes of the Malfoy heir. Suddenly, I become aware that my sharpened fangs have sunk into his supple neck and almost immediately his tepid blood leaks into my mouth, churning hotly and becoming alive upon contact.

Malfoy arches his back and takes a deep gasp, choking on bloody spittle as he violently wrenches away from me and vomits onto the messy floor. My mark upon his neck glimmers gold before fading away, a tiny sparkle twinkling brightly one last time as a reminder of what had taken place.

My illusion securely stabilized, I glance around, noticing that the people around me still have yet to notice my presence. It then occurred to me that people never interrupt me and Draco whenever we are experiencing magic together—after the McGonagall incident, anyway.

_Could it be that Draco and I are able to hide ourselves when we are performing magic upon each other if we chose? _I wonder as I absently pat the retching Malfoy on his heaving back.

"Ugh, what happened to me?" Draco whispers, rolling over and gasping weakly.

"You tried to kill yourself." I said flatly, taking in the widened eyes of the blonde Slytherin, "too bad you forgot that only we can kill each other."

Draco says nothing, his breaths shallow and erratic as he closes his eyes into an uncomfortable slumber.

"Potter! How in Morgana's name did you get the-Never mind. Bring Draco to the infirmary!" Snape cries immediately, his harsh eyes blazing with concern over his Godson.

Listening to Snape for once, I gingerly pick up the comatose boy and run to Madam Pomfrey.

---------------------------------------------------------------

When I awoke, Madam Pomfrey had just finished administering a vile potion on me, as my mouth tasted of rotten pumpkin juice. I groan, unable to speak coherently with a thick, potion-laden throat.

I glance to my side, knowing that emerald eyes would be grimly watching me.

_I know you brought me back._ I whisper in my mind, knowing that He could hear my every word.

_I told you that it was impossible to die without me._ The smug response came, _I saved you without knowing what I was doing._

I close my eyes. _You hate me; you should have welcomed my death._

His own green orbs flashed angrily, a gold sheen sparking in its midst for a mid-second. _I don't hate you, ungrateful prat. _He admonishes, _I told you—I did not know what I was doing until I had saved you._

The Boy-Who-Lived leans over, his dark hair grazing against my pale cheek. _You are mine, Draco. Mine to kill._

_Golden Boy turns dark? _I drawl sarcastically, ignoring the name that Potter dared call me.

_You've always known that._ He murmurs back, gazing at me with a curious expression upon his hypnotic face.

Before I could retort, Snape rushes into the room, and Harry leans back, an innocent-yet-scared expression expertly placed upon his fraudulently tanned features.

"How is he, Potter?" The Professor immediately questions; sharp eyes boring into Harry's own cowering orbs.

"He just woke up, but he won't talk." Potter replies nervously.

"Of course he will not talk; Malfoy had various health potions placed upon him which makes the throat dry and sticky. Ten points from Gryffindor for ignorance of medical potions." Snape snaps back.

Potter groans loudly, making a show of slumping into his chair. Snape raises his eyebrow.

"Do you own this room, Potter? I think not. Now run along to your next class before I take points off for tardiness." The Professor mutters testily as Harry rushes to his next class, tail behind his legs in a fake show of cowardice.

Now alone with the Potions master, I watch as he carefully pours cool water down my parched throat and I willingly swallow with visible difficulty.

"Why did you do it?" His soft voice questions as he gazes at my limp form.

"I don't know." I reply; voice hoarse and thick with mucus. I attempt to clear my throat, only succeeding in another fit of coughs. Snape pours more water into my mouth and I swallow again.

"Your father has been informed of your 'accident'." He continues quietly, watching me for a reaction.

My face stays stoic and unfeeling as I reply, "The punishment will not be any harsher than what I would have gotten as it is."

My Godfather sighed, showing a rare sign of kindness as he takes my hand into his.

"I told him that the mission had failed with Potter embedding a knife into your chest and me finding you bleeding alone in the halls."

"_You are a disappointment to me and a shame to the Malfoy name."_

I close my eyes. "As I said, the punishment will be no different."

He sighs again. "I know, Draco. I know."

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An owl dropped me a portkey at precisely 3:00 AM, attached with a note that told me who it was from.

I pick up the shining black opal, its murky depths seeming to absorb all the moonlight in a swirl of shimmering colors. My face forms into the somber mask that I used for the past seventeen years of my life and I glance into the gleaming gem.

_You don't have to follow Lucius's instructions._ My reflection pleads; its eyes full of sympathy. _You could take refuge with Dumbledore and fight alongside Him._

My pale fingers clench the stone for a second, its movement upwards to my face halted as I acknowledge the mirror's argument. Slowly, my lips form into a smirk and I recognize my familiar haughty drawl:

"Tools _always_ do as their told."

My lips quickly whisper the activation word, the world swirling around me and my reflection staring at me agape with utter amazement as I feel the familiar pull around my navel.

It was not long before I found myself on my knees, my eyes lowered and form repentant as I bowed before the man who is my father.

His face shows nothing as he glances at me, a proud eyebrow raised in a contemplative manner with his arms folded and slender fingers grasping his wand. I resist looking up, knowing the action would only anger Lucius as he continues to scrutinize me. Finally, after an eternity, the blonde man speaks:

"You have humiliated the Malfoy name, Draco. What excuses do you have in your defense?"

Eyes unblinking, I answer calmly. "I was not aware that Potter would be intelligent enough to carry a dagger, nor did I believe that Potter would be as uncivilized as to use it against me."

"You underestimated your opponent," The man states, "and as a result, the Malfoy title is now tainted with shame and I am put into a difficult position with our Lord."

I say nothing, mouth drawn tightly shut and mask firmly in place as Lucius continues his rant. "The Dark Lord now feels that you are..._inept_ and unqualified for his favor! How am I to keep my position in his competitive ranks if you do not do as you are told?"

"**Crucio!"**

Burning pain exploded into my body and I topple over, grunting once in shock; I should have expected the torture, yet it seemed to be a new experience every time. I feel the blasted curse wracking through my chest, eating at my innards, clawing its way up my throat and at the same time, dissolving my legs and forcing me to tremble in the most undesirable fashion.

The blonde man continues to stare regally down at my crumpled form, haughty expression vibrant and vivid on his face as he looks at me in disgust. Finally, he ends the spell, dispelling it with a quick "Finite Incantum!" before facing me again.

"Now explain yourself about the...questionable pictures." He demands, forcing me to talk as I spit the blood that I had acquired from biting my cheeks throughout the ordeal.

"It happened in a moment of anger." I choke, "the Golden Boy decided to make the first move, threatening me like a pathetic Mudblood."

_And you did the same._

Lucius says nothing for a moment, bearing down on me with his hard, cold eyes. "Do you remember how I think of Mudbloods?" He murmurs calmly, wand softly tapping his pointed chin in a gesture of mock curiosity.

"They are a threat to the Wizarding society and a completely inferior race which should be exterminated." I automatically answer, crawling back to my submissive position of kneeling and groveling.

"Correct." The Deatheater replies, "I hate them."

_And in that one moment, you were just like one of those despicable vermin that I so despise._

"**Crucio!"**

More pain; more grinding teeth, erratic limbs, clenched fingers which gripped blindingly at fistfuls of hair.

**More of the inevitable Darkness**.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mother was by my side when I woke up, her cool fingers sliding across my pale, bruised cheek. Big drops of diamonds trailed their way down her beautiful face and her perfect eyebrows were drawn into two sad slants as she continued to sob silently over my demise.

"I found Him." I croak to her, forcing her to look at me with startled eyes.

_I found my other half, and his name is Harry Potter._

She begins to cry anew, a slender finger sliding across her flawless face to wipe away the gleaming liquid.

"What have you decided?" She questions, already knowing my answer, "Will you fight with him? Or destroy yourself against him?"

"I truly despise him with my very being." I automatically reply with rehearsed determination, "I feel nothing but satisfaction to see him dead by my own hands."

Narcissa Malfoy runs her trembling hands through my hair. "You understand the prophecy and the effects of Halves?" She questions again, her tone growing desperate as if to frighten me away from my own decision.

"We will destroy each other and the Dark Lord will be triumphant." I grin smugly, willing my mind to believe itself, "as for the development of the Halves, I have already begun to develop stronger powers and certain...skills."

"How do you feel?" She whispers, trying not to believe that her son was destined to follow the path of his father.

I close my eyes, pretending that I was not lying to my mother.

_And yet I have to, so she will not feel the pain of the burden that I must carry inside._

"I feel empowered; strong enough to defeat Him." My voice sounds cold and cutting like the chilly winter wind, howling its pain and leaving destruction in its wake.

"I am sorry, Mother."

Now she begins to cry loudly, her silent tears a river of gasping breaths as she leans over my form and buries her head into the folds of the blanket, clutching at her emotionless son.

Within my own mind I once again witness the current memories of Potter. I vividly recall the exciting days when we argued, the adrenaline rush of our fights, the solid contentment of sharing our lives together, and the disgusting_ shame_ at how we drew our powers from each other.

_I resent the boy; Wonder Boy Harry Potter and his Golden Trio._ I mock to myself, _however, all of our strange "acts" are needed in order for his downfall; I am not doing this out of anything except necessity._

My mother lets out another long wail and I clench the bed sheets tightly, nails digging sharply into my palms through the thin, silky fabric.

_**No, I am not a queer.**_

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Before I left, Lucius gave me another opal; this time it was a shiny white color, iridescent rays gleaming smartly across its smooth exterior.

"Keep it, and when the time is right, I will send orders." He instructs and I nod my head curtly in understanding. Before I could question its use (not that I would have dared), he continues, "because you have failed your mission and that dratted Boy is alerted of our mission, we will need to take more drastic measures."

He gave me another of his sharp stares, "if you disappoint me this time, I will take your failure as an act of treason and act accordingly."

"Do not bother, Father." I say coolly, ignoring the shiver down my spine at the mention of his formal name, "I wish for nothing but our victory."

With his short nod of approval, I use the portkey and land back in the infirmary before the nurse get the opportunity to check up on me. As if on cue, Madam Pomfrey comes into the room and bustles towards me, forcing me to take another Blood Regenerating Potion before hustling me back to the Slytherin dungeons for convalescence. I thank her with a sneer, causing her to scowl before walking away.

_Some nurse she was,_ I scoff, _how could she not have seen the violent trembling that my aching Crucio-affected muscles were causing?_

I smirk darkly, silently reinforcing the illusion charms that covered my newly reopened chest and injuries that the Cruciatus curse had induced.

_Sometimes I hate my acting skills._

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fall of Draco Malfoy quickly became the talk of Hogwarts as the day progressed. Why had he done it? How come no one knew?

...Why, of all people, did _Harry Potter_ find him?

Pansy remained pale and tight-lipped to anyone who dared question her, shaking her head and glaring at all offenders. Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle, loyal devotees of Draco, also seemed to know why the Slytherin tried to take his own life, but they also remained firmly silent and gloomy throughout the entire mess.

"How bad was the wound, Harry?" Hermione whispers to me; her worried tone failing to mask the open curiosity in her eyes.

"Did he do it because of a girl?" Lavender squeals, stars almost shining through her gleaming eyes, "that would be _so_ romantic!"

Rolling his eyes at the comment, Ron looks at me, "Since you're so close-lipped, at least tell us how long you think that arrogant git will be staying in the infirmary?"

"...A very long time." I grunt after a short while, trying to ignore the new barrage of questions from the other Gryffindors. I also quell the sudden flare of indignation when the red-haired Weasley leapt from his seat and screamed in triumphant glory upon my morbid response.

I did not even find peace in my own bed, with Ron and all the other Gryffindor blokes jumping me for answers. Tired, I close my eyes, wishing that they would go away. When I reopened my lids, I was faced with a familiar Slytherin in the middle of taking off his robe.

"Not again." I groan as the blonde boy gasps and whips his head towards mine.

"Bloody hell, Potter! You're sick, you know that?" He snarls sharply as he tugs his robe back on.

"Calm down, Malfoy; you're wearing clothes underneath that robe." I say in my defense, and upon his raised eyebrow, I squawk, "and I did _not_ come here to watch you strip! Merlin's blasted wand, you shagging prat!"

"So why _are_ you here?" Draco asks impatiently, slender limbs placed haughtily at his hips.

Looking away, I realize I am sitting on the Slytherin's well-made bed and I get off. "I don't know. I was wishing for some peace from the Gryffindors and the next thing I knew I had popped over here."

"Just like last time?" The Slytherin questions, scratching his chin when I nod. "I don't suppose that was how you got back to...wherever you were after you left?"

My eyes widen. "Good point! When I was leaving your room last time, I closed my eyes and ended up back where I was before!" Trying to will myself back into my Gryffindor shelter, I shut my eyes tightly and reopen them to no avail.

Malfoy watches me with a smirk. "Apparently you still don't want to leave." He drawls to my agitation, "I suppose my company is just too wonderful to ignore."

"Oh shove it." I grumble, sitting on the floor as Malfoy continues primping in the mirror. "What's the use of grooming if you aren't even going to show yourself to public?"

"For you, my precious _Potter_." Draco spits sarcastically. "A Malfoy must _always_ be presentable."

I roll my eyes, wishing that I could just leave. Unfortunately, I could not blink my eyes and use whatever magic I had used last time to exit and the Slytherin commons was bustling with activity. Glancing back at Malfoy to question his health, I suddenly notice something peculiar...

"Malfoy, how'd you get all those nasty wounds?"

He whirls around, looking at me with his eyes wide and mouth agape. "Ho-How did you—What wounds?"

I walk over to the blubbering Slytherin, pointing at every bruise and cut upon his face. He slaps my hand away, muttering something inaudible under his breath.

"How'd you see through it?" He finally demands.

"See through what? They're more obvious than Ron's freckles!" I say impatiently as Draco further pales, sitting on his bed for support.

"I...I put the stronger illusion charms on it!" He insists.

Now it is my turn to frown. "I saw through that concealment charm on your ring, right? I can probably see through all your enchantments." Then I smirk. "You can't hide anything from me anymore, Malfoy."

Grabbing me by the throat, he hisses, "That should be _my_ line, Potter. I can tell Voldemort everything that goes on in that imbecilic head of yours and all of your weaknesses as well."

I continue to smirk, gazing into his angry face with unwavering eyes, "None of it would matter, as you are the only one who could kill me."

"Who says I won't?" He shouts, grabbing my shoulders roughly and slamming himself onto my face.

We fall over onto the bed, both bodies gripping the other in crushing holds as we roll over. The Slytherin lets out a strangled moan as I bite onto his lip in a show of dominance and he pushes me away, only to take my position on top.

I tear his robe away in sudden fury, gripping his immaculate Slytherin uniform and clutching his rumpled sweater. Suddenly, I realize that my own robe had disappeared as Malfoy pulls me up by my crimson-yellow tie, successfully making me choke.

I pull his sweater over his head in response, kneeing him in the process and retaking my role on top. He hisses and pulls off the blinding article in rage, only to pull my own sweater over my gold-speckled orbs. I throw the offending piece of clothing away, pressing against him in renewed fervor.

The thin fabric of our stark, white shirts contrast deeply with our familiar thickness of layered robes and sweaters and we both gasp in response, the new sensation causing strong tingles down our spine. Along with the new touch came a sort of longing, deep and desperate which knotted inside our stomachs and spread into our hearts.

I hold the Slytherin's wrists tightly with one hand, pressing them harshly into the messy bed as I rip his shirt with the other, small, glassy buttons falling like the delicate torrents of a waterfall.

His long hair falls into his face as he struggles to be free and I am glad that his illusion had been cast away during the fight. I then notice that my own mask had disappeared during our duel and I smirk, knowing that I am obviously the stronger one without our concealments.

His pale, luminescent chest is exposed and I hiss at the hideous wound that he had tried so hard to hide. It was still bleeding between the bandages; a small crimson staining the beautiful whiteness of the linens. Along the wound were several other cuts and bruises which marred the porcelain flesh beneath me.

_Why did you not heal yourself?_ I say to him.

_I want it to be a memory of my failure._ He gasps back, shivering against my touch as I slash away his Muggle medic-fabrics. I nuzzle against the swollen wound as Malfoy tenses in pain, blowing gently until the injury is no more.

_What failure?_ I smirk, looking fondly at the healthy skin that I had just healed before capturing his mouth in another show of dominance.

He suddenly springs back, mask in place again and a splatter of confusion upon his flawless face. I topple over due to the sudden action, snapping my own illusion on as I land sprawled disgracefully on the floor.

When I look up again, Malfoy was clutching his robes to his body, hiding the torn buttons and shredded shirt that he wore beneath. Like my own, every inch of his body trembled in fear and apprehension and once again an awkward silence had placed its presence between us.

"This needs to stop." I say dumbly, a shaky breath loud and harsh between the lonesome atmosphere which we were immersed in.

"Tell yourself that, "Draco responds nervously, "you were the one who apparated here."

"At least you're healed!" I snap back, and Draco touches his face with his quivering fingers.

"I did not ask you to heal me." He mutters darkly as I scoff in response.

"I suppose our Half relation makes me want to heal you?" I offer as an excuse, only to have the stubborn Slytherin's face turn into one of thinly veiled anger.

"May I remind you, Potter, that we have absolutely _no_ relation with each other and this is not some sort of..._bond_ or anything." He yells, "Just get out of my life and leave me alone!"

"I can't help if you're Deatheater life is bent on destroying me!" I angrily shout back, "If anyone, it should be _you_ getting out of my life!"

Draco shuts his mouth, his lips drawn into a tight, thin line.

"_I hate you."_ He hisses softly and for an unknown reason, I flinch in response. I turn around, masking my error and with my back to the sullen Slytherin, I look back at him.

"I know."

Then I sadly close my eyes, my lids feeling the weight of a pure-blood Giant before I reawaken in my room.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It has been approximately two weeks and three days since I had stopped corresponding with Potter. Not only had I resisted the urge to find the blasted boy (which I had accidentally done by apparating into his rooms when he was sleeping...Mordred knows how lucky I was that no one was in the Gryffindor common room at that time), but I had also managed to stop talking to the Boy-Who-Lived altogether.

I chew absently on my dry toast, its crumbling chunks vile and disgusting as it sticks in my mouth.

"Look, we have guests!" Pansy whispers excitedly, "and look at the little girl! She's adorable!"

The entire hall fills with chatter as everyone gawks at the family of four seated at Dumbledore's table. I wrinkle my nose in disgust.

_Look at their red hair—must be some of the Weasel's family._

On cue, the Headmaster stands up and urges the Hall to silence with his hands. His rich, melodious voice rings firmly as he stares proudly into the masses of his beloved students.

"Ladies and gentleman, we have a few special guests today. They are here to tour our gracious Hogwarts and to decide on a school for their son, who will be eleven next year. I proudly present to you Mr. And Mrs. Plack, as well as their son Philip and their lovely daughter Margaret."

The wizened old man waited for the applause to yield, then continues to speak, a twinkle in his eye directed upon the shocked expression of a certain red-haired boy.

"May I mention that the Placks are also cousins to the Weasley's?" He says amusedly, nodding towards the Weasel's direction, who immediately turns red and ducks his head in embarrassment.

I sneer at the wizard before turning to Blaise. "Just lovely; more Weasley's to invade the school with."

Pansy slaps me lightly on the shoulder. "At least that little girl is a dear, unlike the Weaselette."

I roll my eyes. "I hate children."

_Because I was never able to be one._

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I love children!"

_Because I have always wanted that experience._

"Good for you, Harry." Ron says amiably, "because Auntie Plack wants me to take care of little Margaret—she can be quite the mischievous little girl—and I am horrible with children! She's all yours, mate."

I gape at Ron unabashedly. "Why can't Hermione take care of her?"

"I thought you loved children?" Hermione mocks dryly, a humorous smile etched across amiable her face. "Besides, the N.E.W.Ts are coming up and I need to study."

"'Mione, the N.E.W.Ts are _months _away." Ron says exasperatedly before turning to me, "if I left Margaret with Hermione, she'd be bored stiff in the library for the whole day!"

I laugh as Weasley yelps from being poked in the elbow by the dangerous fork-wielding Granger. "All right, Ron, I'll do it."

"I knew I could count on you, Harry."

Little Margaret Plack turned out to be quite the charmer; head full of bouncy red curls, delicate, playful freckles, and sparkling blue eyes, she could melt anyone's heart with her cheerful demeanor.

"Say hi to Harry." Ron says kindly to the girl as he pats her hand comfortingly. "He will be taking care of you while your brother visits the school."

The small five-year-old looks up at me and grins. "You have pretty eyes, Harry." She giggles.

Feeling a modest blush settle over my face, I mutter thanks before taking her hand from Ron's. "Where would you like to go today, Margaret?" I say kindly.

"Somewhere fun!" She yells, jumping up and down for good measure. I chuckle. "I suppose we can visit the lake—it's gigantic and absolutely marvelous."

When we arrive at the lake, the young Plack lets out a shriek of delight and runs over to the large body of water. Grabbing her, I cry frantically, "Margaret! That is Mr. Squid's home and I don't think he'd like it if we jumped into his house without warning."

The small girl pouts and whines, "but I want to go visit Mr. Squid!" I smile softly, shaking my head before leading her away. Suddenly, being the mischievous girl that Ron had warned me about, she wrenches from my grasp and runs toward the lake, shrieking with laughter.

My cry died on my lips as I saw the squid's tentacle reach up above the lake.

_She's going to die, and it's going to be my fault!_

I'm running as fast as my legs can carry me and when I reach the shores she is nowhere to be found.

"MARGARET! Where are you? Don't scare Harry like this!" I yell desperately, cupping my hands to my mouth.

_Ron's going to kill me._

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walk towards the library, enjoying the quiet company of myself as I take the long detour to observe the glistening reflections of the lake on a fine day.

Suddenly, something crashes into me with surprising force and I stumble back. Looking down in annoyance, I notice that a girl is attached to my waist, clinging to me with unexpected strength.

"Er...miss?" I manage weakly, trying to keep my voice kind and soothing. "Are you lost?" The dear refuses to let go of me no matter how hard I try to push her off without seeming rude, and I end up giving up, draping a (hopefully) comforting arm over the girl's back. Finally, she looks up at me, blue sparkling eyes gazing determinately into my own.

"Let's play." She orders, her mouth drawn into a small pout.

"Where are your Mum and Dad?" I frown and she—if possible—squeezes me tighter.

"I want to play with _you_!" She insists as I try my hardest not to run away.

She reminds me too much of the childhood I had always yearned for; the pure innocence that came from carefree days and unconditional love. The realization hit me like a slap from the Giant squid:

_I am afraid of her._

It is human nature to be afraid of the unknown, and Malfoys fear nothing; however, I, Draco Malfoy, am scared speechless at a mere five-year-old girl; I am utterly ashamed of my lack of knowledge of how to care for her, scared mindless by the fact that I might harm her by accident...

**Complete trepidation.**

"Umm, err...ah..." I stammer, unable to answer or abide to her requests. "What's your name, little one?"

"I'm Margaret! Mum and Dad's with my brother touring the school." She tells me happily, "Harry says that I could go see the lake, but Mr. Squid doesn't want me to visit him." She says mournfully. I chuckle at her purity.

"My dear Margaret, there are many other sights to see in this land of Hogwarts." I say with genuine affection, and she looks at me with shining eyes. "Care to go visit a few ghosts? I promise you they are all very kind."

And so we go visit the Bloody Baron, Peeves, and all the other poltergeists of the school. Of course, all of them were delighted upon seeing a young girl and they lavished her with attention—Yes, even bitter ol' Baron. After, I carried her up the astronomy tower and showed her the cloudless skies.

Much later, after I managed to drag her away from the telescopes, I took her hand—or did she take mine?—and together we strolled to Professor Sprout's greenhouse, upon which I showed her all the non-deadly plants, daring even to give her a rare diamond lily. Afterwards, we stopped by Hagrid's hut and although the half-Giant and I were...awkward to say the least, he spoiled young Margaret with a grand showing of Unicorns, centaurs, and even the wild Gnomes of the forest.

By the time we got back to the lake, I was carrying the girl on my shoulders and she lay against me with sleepy eyes.

"You all right, love?" I whisper to her, surprising myself by how attached I had become to her so soon.

"I'm sleepy." She murmurs impishly, as I sit on against the dry trunk of a tree with her in my lap.

"I need to get you back to your parents." I say reasonably, "they must be worried sick."

"Margaret! Marga-_Malfoy_! What are you doing to her? Get your grubby hands off that girl!" A familiar voice hisses angrily behind me. I stand up, cradling the young Plack to my chest as I face Harry Potter. He runs over, violent hands reaching out to wrench the girl away from me. Instead, I lean away from his grasp, motioning for him to be quiet as not to startle the tired girl. Potter acquiesced, gazing at me with a suspicious glare.

"How did you find Margaret?" Potter mutters quietly, as if he were certain that I ate children for dinner.

"Draco took me to all the fun places." The girl answers for me in a sleepy murmur. "We saw Uncle Peeves and pretty dragon daisies and lots of other things!"

Now the great Boy-Who-Lived looks at me with wide, accusing eyes. "I thought you were the type to hate children, but you are better at them than I am!"

I look over the brunette beyond the slightly snoring midst of red curls with silent, glowing orbs.

"I suppose I am not afraid of them anymore." I whisper softly, following Potter as he led us back to the Placks.

Unbeknownst to the two boys, Colin Creevey sat from a distance, snapping his final picture. In it stood Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, standing closely together in front of a sunset, mere flitting shadows where they stood. Between the two of them, held by the smaller figure, was a young girl. The photo seemed so _surreal_ that even Mr. Creevey had to blink his eyes a few times to make sure he was not disillusioned. Mournfully shaking his head, Colin sighed.

"This is much too unbelievable to make the headlines..."

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**8:10 pm**

_Draco,_

_It is time. Report to an empty hallway at 3:26am sharp with the object I had given you._

_Fail and face the consequences.

* * *

_

**AN: **Phew! What a long chapter! 22 pages yeesh! I had originally planned to stop it after Draco's torture, but I had to fit in young Margaret! Also, argh, I make Draco seem like such an emotional git :( Much more so than Harry –o-; I'll try to work on that! And wow, this chapter was so much longer than what I had planned! Please look forward to the next chapter :)

**PS:** Please read Alex Sanchez's novel, _So Hard to Say_; it's brilliant, witty and absolutely beautiful all in one! It is also one of the few books that I attained research from on the real life bigotry and thoughts of the modern day on homosexuality, which you will see next chapter.

**PS (Song): **The song is "Blanket in a Park" by Lene Marlin.

**Next Chapter:** Lucius's plan to disable Harry is activated, so what will occur? An even bigger question, it's the bloody 6th chapter, so why aren't Harry and Draco together yet! Harry and Draco both get a view of what their friends think on an uncomfortable subject...

**Shout Outs:**

_Ater Phasma_: Excellent question! At first I thought of doing that cliched breakdown thing, but after thinking how, well, _cliched _it was, I thought of another plan to do...

_Mirokuluver's Friend:_ Oh I think the last chapter was just quite puzzling. Sorry for all the confusion! XD Hope you enjoy this chapter, at least :)

_Ambroisine:_ Haha, bedtime stories –hearts- Aargh, and yesh, I suppose the last chapter was confusing...I'll have to revise it and try to make it simpler x.X Rawr, on board, Matey:D

_Lilsteves: _Hehe, happy ending or not, its a mystery –winks- And yesh, I agree, fighting and making out is rather amusing nyohohoho...

_DarkXDaisuke.shonen-ai.love..._: Ooh! I was supposed to update my Wisp of Summer fanfic before this one, but I couldn't help it :( I'll update Wisp of Summer asap! Glad you gave me the reminder, I really appreciate it when someone tells me that they read my other ficcies too –hearts and cookies-

_iNsAnE nO bAkA:_ XD Sorry with the cliffhanger, I just couldn't help it :) It just seemed like the perfect..."commercial break" And har har, violence against siblings...I know how you feel XD! I always love your reviews, you're such an awesome possum:)

_Finland's Faerie_: Hehe, I'm surprised you're the only one so far who caught my bad verb tense habit. To be honest, I'm experimenting with my writing style...after all, most writers I read always use past tense, but past tense equals passive voice which isn't good. As a result, I attempted to use present tense but it's really hard to keep up :( I'll revise when I can :) And Satoshi Hiwatari? Interesting...maybe I should write a DNAngel ficcie; I so love DNAngel and SatoDai –starry eyes- Also, bloody wanker is just erm...like bloody is a term the British use for curse words like "Bloody hell!" or "you bloody fool!" and wanker is uh...someone who wanks? –falls over at bad explanation- but in my story I used it kind of like "Oh son of a gun" type of phrase. Did that make sense? If not, I will gladly clarify it more x.x; And about me being British, no sadly I am not (though I would love to have a British accent!) I'm a little girl who acts like a total valley girl (really, it's scary) and looks waaaay too young for her age -.- However, I _looooooove_ your long reviews and questions! Please review again! Pleeeeeeeeeeease:)

_Chaney:_ Explooooooooooode! XD I have planned the battle out already, and although its a few chapters from now, it is extremely complex and there is no black and white to side-choosing...-acts all mysterious- Yarr, I just hope it doesn't turn out confusing x.x;

**As usual, I _looooove_ hearing your opinions and comments, so please, REVIEW? **


	6. Does Fate Really Matter?

**A/N:** Wow, this took a while to finish. I admit it is due to my attempt at writing my next Naruto chapter (which is failing miserably, may I add), and a rather rabid urge to read other HP ficcies. Mm, this chapter also contains a few...scenes (not explicit, mind you, but er...there are metaphors?) I'm a bit curious to see how you lovely readers react to it actually. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco dwell behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

**

* * *

**

Masquerade – Does Fate Really Matter?

* * *

You weren't there; distant, far away  
It's like this every day, they see you in their heads  
Wonder if you'll come  
Afraid to close their eyes, and miss you once again

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I trot nervously along the shadows of the wall, glancing back every so often to make sure that no one had followed. It was exactly 3:26 by the time I reached the silent tomb of a hallway and the gem that I clutched in my trembling hands glowed. Soon it began to burn, its white depths beginning to shimmer with an orange hue and I nearly drop the object, holding on to it only through fear. All of the sudden, everything stopped.

"Hello, Draco."

"Father."

I dare not turn around, wishing the voice was an imaginary specter of the darkness. Later, I wished it was merely my mind playing tricks when I felt the heavy hand fall onto my shoulder.

"One month from now, I want you to get Potter alone in the hallways. Bring the port key." The voice orders.

Before I could question 'why?' realization dawned upon me.

_Lucius will use the portkey to call the Deatheaters and dispose of Potter._

I finally turn around, taking a deep breath before facing my oppressor. However, all I could glimpse was a sinister smile and blonde hair fading back into the darkness; Lucius was gone.

I crawl again into the darkness as I hear footsteps rushing loudly near me. Trembling, I realize that the intrepid thundering was merely my heart, beating madly and violently with fear of what I am to do.

_Is it really so simple? Drag the bloody Boy-Who-Lived somewhere abandoned, then have Deatheaters kill him off? _

I roll my eyes at myself, cursing my stupidity.

_He can't die without you, dimwit, _I snarl, _though the Dark Lord's army –can- disable him indefinitely._

Running my trembling fingers through my smooth hair, I sigh.

_...Is it really so easy? And do I really want this?_

Now I shudder in disgust at my thoughts. _Of course I want this; this has been what I have been bred for._

Forcing a smirk upon my face, which I later found looked more like a maniacal grin, I swagger back to the dungeons, drowning in the safe abyss of my bed.

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Did he have to cry louder,  
Would that make you hear him  
You see, his heart was broken, for the first time

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The new dawn came far too quickly to be a comfort; waking up groggily, I was aware of my Slytherin comrades chatting happily in the Common room. When I had finished preparing for the day, I enter the loud arena, upon which I was tackled upon by none other than Pansy Parkinson.

"Parkinson, get off of me." I say tersely, easing her tight hold off my arm. She pouts slightly with familiar ease, merely whining a "But Draco-dear, you had just started letting me touch you, what happened?"

_Potter happened, that bloody wanker, _I snarl mentally, _he made me use you as a distraction, much like how the Dark Side uses me._

However, I ignore her, upon which she continues, "Draco, Christmas is coming in just over a month! Have you got all your shopping done?"

I wince; lying, "Malfoys don't shop at low class stores such as those around Hogwarts." Pansy laughs, giving me a know-it-all look as Blaise joins us to in the Dining Hall.

Staring at the bland meal in front of me, I am once again reminded of yesterday's happenings. The elder man with the pale blonde hair and the superior smirk smiles at me from the pumpkin juice, while his blasted white opal gleams similarly to the boiled egg that resides innocently upon my plate.

I growl and push the offending object away with force, standing abruptly while ignoring the Slytherin's startled glances. I look up, glaring into the familiar face with the wide, unblinking, gold-tinged eyes.

_I hate you._

My footsteps echo coldly against the stone floor and the room erupts into mass mayhem over why Draco Malfoy caused such a scene. Uncaring and unfeeling, I numbly settle myself inside the deserted Potions classroom.

"_One month from now, I want you to get Potter alone in the hallways. Bring the port key."_

One month from now; the last week before Christmas holidays. I briefly thought about my words to Pansy: _Malfoys don't stoop so low as to shop in the area around Hogwarts._

Grinning softly to myself, I improvise, _We like to give them something more personal than that; Jolly nice Christmas present, isn't it, Potter?_

**Harry Potter.**

Why am I even brooding upon such a trivial object? Morgana's week-old stockings, I am starting to sound like a lovesick teenager sulking over her lover.

_You are disgusting,_ I whisper to myself, gazing impassively into my own emotionless face within the mirrored depths of the inkwell, _but no, you are –not- a queer._

A shiver ran down my spine. With my exceedingly great hatred for the brunette boy, leading him to his ultimate doom should be an honor. However, due to my sudden development of "justice", I have begun to doubt my decisions and my position.

_Tools do as they are told, _I chide myself, _besides, killing off your other Half is a rather good thing._

A sudden rush of laughter interrupted me from my wild thoughts, returning me to the gloomy reality.

_Sodding Potter and his bloody trio are early again._

Coolly turning my head, I eye them with a perfect arrogant-yet-regal look. Hermione had her hands around Potter's arm while the Weasel was obviously trying hard to ignore it.

"The Boy-Who-Lived and his Mudblood," I drawl, "is the Weasel the Third Wheel? Poor chap."

"You stay out of this, Malfoy," Weasley hisses, fists automatically clenching at his sides. I notice that Potter had tensed, perhaps he is feeling guilty at his own betrayal of a friend? I calmly stand up, slowly gliding over to my Half and staring him in the eye.

"Nothing has changed between us, Potter, "I continue, watching his face for a sign; he gazes back with an impassivity that rivals my own. A picture of the two of us holding hands with darling Margaret flashes into my head; somehow knowing that the memory had come from the Gryffindor. Automatically, my own memory of us returning the bright girl to her family buzzes through our minds, my serene smile clashing vividly with Potter's dazzling grin.

I step closer, my cold presence imposing onto the space that he and Granger shared, the girl stepping behind him in cautious fear.

"I still hate you, you know," I murmur to his similarly cold face, "I hate you."

He blinks once, gold dancing across his eyes as he murmurs back, "I heard you the first time."

_My thoughts reached you during breakfast, _I acknowledge with amusement as he nods curtly.

_Good._

I smirk at him and turn sharply back to my seat, leaving Potter's two friends with their mouths agape and eyes puzzled at our silent exchange.

_I hate you. I hate you enough to destroy you; to make sure you can never interfere with my life ever again,_ I chant to myself with the strange knowledge that Potter could not hear me at the moment. My pale fingers grip the feathered quill tightly as I pretend to scribble pointless notes for Snape.

_I can complete this mission; **I will not fail.**_

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Cannot turn back time, a wish yet to come true  
They're making up these stories about you

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As if Draco was not already an emotional little girl, these few days he just seems bent on making my life absolute chaos. Although he had blatantly avoided confronting me in deserted places and apparating into my rooms, he had caused quite a ruckus in the classrooms and halls. In fact, the school was once again filled with rumors of our new level of...hatred.

"_I hate you."_

Did he have to make it so clear? Wasn't it obvious by the way he acts around me? On the contrary, I have not felt even a glimmer of that hatred coming from him.

_You can't feel his emotions all the time, bloody fool, _I remind myself, _this isn't "soulmate" gibberish._

_That does not counter the fact that he isn't really Ice Royalty, _I scoff, _he's even more sensitive than I am!_

_Besides, it's not like I tell -him- that I hate him..._A whisper flows through the cracks of my mind; a healing balm against the haze and confusion.

"Where are the rest of your "friends," Potter? Did they leave you for a new hero?" The voice sneers. I roll my eyes, sighing as I turn around to face the Slytherin.

"And where are your goons, Malfoy? Have they finally gotten sick of your wealth and left you?" I say tiredly, rubbing my temples slightly. He hisses, stepping closer to me.

"Back off, Malfoy, You wouldn't want anything to happen while we are in public," I warn to the boy, a familiar tingle lingering in my consciousness; it was excited that my other Half had come, and I knew that Draco felt it too.

He grimaces and takes a small step back. "Sod off, as if I'd like to be close to you anyway." He snaps as if stung.

"If my memory serves me well, I recall that you were the one who has been stalking _me_," I snarl back, "for the past five days too, may I add."

Now the Slytherin bristles, his pale face taking on a tinge of pink as he realizes the truth in my words. "If you know what is best for you, I suggest you shut your mouth before I hex it for you."

"What is with the sudden change, Draco? You are as bipolar as a Boggart with an overdose of Snapweed."

"I told you not to call me that!" He yells, startling a few students near the lake, "and I am as bipolar as you are real." He whispers now, turning his head around to make sure no one was watching.

I grab the sleeve of his robe, pulling him down onto the grass next to me. As he sputters indignantly, I murmur, "if you want to talk about _that_, I suggest you say it with caution and in privacy."

Of course, we both knew that privacy was not an option; rather, it was a trap that lead to grim mysteries of which we could not partake in. Thus, we were stuck to look like two spiteful boys with nervous faces as we confront each other erratic silence.

"I don't want anything to do with you," Malfoy states snidely, looking away from my raised eyebrow.

"Grow up," I order exasperatedly, "you are stuck with me until the day we kill each other."

Now he looks at me, sullen grey eyes trying to stare into my own. "I failed my mission, you know," he whispers quietly. I nod, knowing the punishment that he must have received.

"And you have a new one," I clarify, leaning back to watch the cloudy sky. The grey color matched His eyes; the various somber shades of grey mixing with each other in the endless cycle of clouds.

He says nothing, instead staring into the silent ripples of the lake.

_Tonight will be the full moon._ He says softly; to himself or to me I do not know.

_Have you felt the impending feeling of an important event about to occur too?_ I respond, already knowing the answer.

_I've known since we met._

I chuckle, _you know, if we could talk like this, there really is no need to meet up and talk through our mouths._

He looks at me, a sour expression twisted upon his beautiful face. _This form of communication does not always work. _He shakes his head quickly, correcting himself, _and I'd like to associate with you as little as possible, especially through something that links me to you._

He abruptly stands up, brushes off his immaculate robes—like grass stains would show on black—and briskly walks away as if no words had been exchanged between us.

I look back towards the skies, the wind blowing pleasantly through my ruffled strands as I continue thinking about a certain blonde Slytherin; the boy with eyes of grey clouds and lightning.

_It is only natural to think more of someone who is directly connected to you, nothing more._

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Waving to my Quidditch teammates, I walk off the raining field, wet mud squelching under my expensive boots. I change quickly in the locker rooms and exit before anyone could find me for a chat. Daring to walk to school through the rain with a strange certainty that lightning will not strike me, I chance a look upon the sky.

The clouds now raged with heavy fury, harsh rain dribbling over my squinting eyes and crawling down my slack face to embed themselves into my soft garments. However, something in my blood runs cold and my soul howls in a strange mixture of excitement and panic as I notice something out of place.

In the midst of the lightning and pelting drops of liquid, a small patch of clouds had parted, leaving the hole leaking with brilliant stars and a large full moon. The heavenly satellite shone brighter than its smaller counterparts, its light illuminating the grey fog of rain with its surreal brilliance.

As I gaze into its beautiful depths, I become aware of the fact that I had been staring for hours, and I felt as if some of its magical essence had been absorbed into my body. Then came the urge; a sudden beast viciously clawing its way out of my body. I turn around sharply, breaking the unwavering bond with the glorious light and awaken inside the empty Dining Hall.

No one was around, not even the footsteps from Filch; my Half magic was awake and highly active.

"Shagging Howlers! Malfoy, stop sneaking on me like that!" A voice behind me yelps. The sickening feeling in my stomach increases and I fight to ignore the heavy tingling within my body.

"...Malfoy?" The Gryffindor now says in concern, "you all right?"

"Don't you feel it?" I whisper thickly, "haven't you seen the moon?"

A blast of air tears through my mind, shattering closed doors and barred locks; I knew that our Half powers—or what we had of them—were fully opened at this point in time.

_Yes, I saw the moon,_ unbidden knowledge came to me, _and I felt a strange beckoning to come here._

_All of our powers are working right now,_ I contribute, _I can sense everything you sense, think everything you think, and know everything you know._

Our pasts collide with each other in full force, memories passing memories in a flurry of surprise.

_You own an invisibility cloak? _I accuse.

_Your father made you do –what-?_ The astonished reply returns.

Finally, we are both on our knees, lying in the middle of the great Dining Hall and panting in a sweat-drenched stupor.

"That-You weren't supposed to know any of it." I gasp, struggling to stand up under the burden of new information.

_You know of my mission._

"No one was to know of my past." Potter responds grimly.

_I know of your mission, and I do not care._

_Why?_

_You cannot live without me, nor can I live without you._

I ignore him, refusing to acknowledge our mental confessions. "We should get back; both of us should not be left alone."

_I don't understand why you have to hate me? Is your mission so important to you?_

"Stop talking in my head!" I scream, ignoring the frantic echoes of my own desperate voice.

_Accept yourself, Draco. Even if you hate me, at least accept your powers._

"Powers!" I croak, laughing at his calm remark, "you call this curse _power_! Don't mock me, Potter."

I sweep my lengthened hair behind me into the familiar loose ponytail, knowing that somehow during our ordeal the illusions we carried had shattered.

I glare at him. "And I am _not_ the emotional one!" I cry, "I saw your thoughts, and I would rather call myself the _sensible_ one!"

The boy merely smiles, pointed teeth peeking from his cheeky grin. _I accept our fate and powers calmly, yet you deny it with a fiery passion._

"I am a _tool_, Potter; a _tool_! There is no room for acceptance of any sort!" I spit, taking a seat on the Slytherin table.

He gracefully slinks over, taking his own spot on the flat surface next to me. "I hate how you are so calm about everything," I mutter, "everyone else thinks the Boy-Who-Lived is an innocent little pansy who panics at everything that gets thrown at him, yet he somehow comes out alive through luck."

My voice now drips with sarcasm and I look down at my lap, unable to glance at the boy next to me. "On the contrary, I, Draco Malfoy, am a loyal Deatheater who loves being a carbon copy of his _Father_," I spit harshly," furthermore, I'm also some rich, spoiled brat who is too calm and stoic for his own good."

_When have our roles been switched?_ I think to myself bitterly.

_A role-switching spell when I first met you?_ The voice jokes.

"You're not supposed to be listening to my thoughts!" I yell, tackling him in a half-hearted rage of defeat and humiliation.

He falls over, gold eyes wide with surprise before turning into a feral smile.

_Don't you think our personalities seem a bit different without our facade?_

_Hidden within this masquerade, we are completely different people._

Locking my lips onto his with vicious ferocity, I roughly grapple him as I feel him smile into my face.

I say nothing as we sprawl across the Slytherin table; I think nothing as the tingling in our bodies increase, mingling with the enchanted air which was now speckled with shimmering flecks of gold.

I had not even noticed that we were not wearing clothes, ignoring the vivid red welts upon Harry's body which I had inflicted mercilessly with my nails. I myself sported such scratches across my own body, the burning sensation anchoring me to reality as we continue to savagely battle for dominance.

Our lips were swollen; our bodies littered with bites, scratches, and bruises before the victor was known. Harry Potter, being the taller and more muscular of the two of us (though not by much!), had obviously won and he now held me with my face mashed against the table. I breathe heavily in frustration as he holds me down, face tickling my ears and making the light hairs on my neck bristle with unknown emotion.

The tingling shot through us with full force, causing me and Potter to tremble. He smiles into my neck, biting me with brutality.

_I marked you; you are mine._ He crows.

I utter a small whimper as I feel the stinging sensation burn through my neck, spreading outwards to the rest of my sensitive flesh. Almost in a surreal, yet animalistic manner, he hauls me up to my hands and knees, holding me close to his own body as his firm arms wrap tightly against my waist.

Together we see the moon, clear and vivid in our minds as if the ceiling above us was nonexistent. It seemed to glow brighter than the first time we had noticed it, illuminating the entire castle with its marvelous power.

In the moment of impact, I nearly scream in pain and shock, biting my lower lip to keep from making a sound. I feel Harry's breath hitch and his hair tickles my face and neck as he lays heavily against me.

Further along, I realize that Potter's eyes have begun to glow and with a moment's thought, I notice that mine are the same. The gold within us dances quickly, a mob of fireflies leaping past one another in their frenzy.

The tingling in my body spirals to hidden heights and I can sense Harry in even more closely than before; his very being ropes itself to me and I absently wonder if this would be our last power development, as well as what new abilities or skills we will gain.

My mind—much like Harry's—is now in a haze and we only feel the flesh of each other as we fly closer to the shining orb which had sparked this madness in the first place. Our eyes glow brighter, seeing the blinding essence of the moon as we finally dive into the light, rejoicing in our existence and our destiny.

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I awake in the comforting confines of my room, the soothing crimson and gold causing a light smile across my face. Sitting up to stretch, I realize that I was naked.

_Then again, I don't quite remember putting on any pajamas,_ I frown, glancing into the room to make sure no one was around before running out and slipping on a pair of undergarments.

I hastily follow Ron to breakfast, smiling lazily at his enthusiastic Quidditch strategies and nodding shyly when Hermione remarks on how relaxed I seem. I frown towards the Slytherin table as something hauntingly familiar tickles my consciousness.

On cue, Draco Malfoy strolls in, anxiously pulling on his robes in confusion as he slowly sits at his routine spot, wincing slightly as he painfully shifts around. Our eyes lock onto the other at the same time, and they widen almost comically.

_What have we done?_

_You tell me, Potter. I –knew- you just wanted to-to do that! _A voice snarls. I blink.

_Malfoy?_

_No, it's your bloody conscience telling you that you're a sodding imbecile._ The voice says dryly.

_How did you get into my mind so easily?_ I think again.

_You expect me to know? _A drawn out pause through the tense atmosphere is broken, _ugh, I bet it has to do with our new development of powers. Try closing your mind off to me._

I immediately think of blocking the Slytherin from my thoughts, and another awkward silence settles in. After five minutes, I reach for the boy again and he answers.

_Well, apparently we have complete control over our abilities now, _he thoughtfully says, _bet I could apparate to you and apparate back whenever I wished too._

_Our magic must have gotten stronger as well,_ I surmise.

_Good point! Maybe we even-why am I talking to you? Never try to speak to me again. _The curt voice suddenly snaps and my mind was blocked from Malfoy's with an abrupt slam of a door.

I cast a blind gaze upon my fellow Gryffindors, wondering if they knew what had happened last night. It seemed almost disturbing to know that everyone was eating in a hall where the most sinful magic had taken place.

_How could I have done something like that?_ I think miserably, snarling at myself in disgust.

The day passed by quickly with both me and Malfoy avoiding each other like the Dark Plague. It was now the hour after dinner, a time when all the Gryffindors relaxed in the Common room. A certain Seamus Finnigan strolled in late, complete with disheveled hair and a goofy grin pasted on his face.

"Who's the lucky bloke that just strolled in?" My best mate immediately questions, heartily slapping the dazed boy on the back.

"What do you mean?" Seamus questions nervously, a flush immediately escalating on his Irish features.

"Mordred's favorite cat, 'Mione, he even _smells_ like perfume! Wonder who the girl was?" The red-head shouts, motioning me and Hermione to come over. The boy under question now anxiously flitts his eyes around the room, conscious of the scrutiny of the curious Gryffindors.

"Had a good shag, mate?" Dean Thomas smiles, walking over to his friend, "I knew you had it in you!"

"Who said anything about me and Lavende-" Finnigan immediately stops protesting, a clammy hand slapping itself across his mouth as the rest of the Gryffindors cracks up in laughter, joking at the boy for finally becoming a man.

"Now I know; if our dear Seamus can do it, so can we," Ron howls, giving me a wide grin, "we are next in line, I can feel it!" He turns around, going back to Colin and Neville to discuss the girls of their choice.

My blood runs cold as I stand alone in the crowd of celebrating Lions. No one knew; no one suspected. As a memory of the night before flashes onto my face again, I close my eyes, falling gracelessly onto the soft couch with great unease.

Seamus now sports a proud smile, his triumphant eyes and puffed out chest conquering his uncharacteristic shyness from the minutes before. He laughs with the others, boasting at his prowess and skills in bed.

Among the mob of rowdy ruffians, I begin to feel as if I was shrinking, disappearing into the darkness that one calls horrific shame.

_No._

I shake my head, every so often casting a sly smirk to my friends as if I knew what they were talking about. There is no way that any of them would be able to accept my situation.

_No!_

I bite on my lip, the memories now blasting through my brain with a magically-enhanced cannon. I knew I was different from the rest, but I refuse to believe myself different in even _this _aspect.

_Never. I am no queer!_

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I found him sulking in my room when I walked in from the lavatories. He had unceremoniously dumped himself into my bed, swaddled from head to toe in my expensive sheets; it was a wonder no one had found him.

"Potter, even if your blasted apparating is accidental, I'd like you to refrain from spoiling my sheets," I hiss at the brunette, harshly pulling the blanket away.

He blinks slowly, heavy lids halfway shut in blurry oblivion. "It was not an accident."

"What?"

"I wished myself here and I came," he explains.

A cold fury unravels from my navel. "Then wish yourself back; I want nothing to do with you!" I snap, "I don't even know why yo-"

"Do you remember?" He whispers, halting my tirade with his cautious tone, "Do you think about it?"

I stop, trying to read deep into his words. "It's rather hard not to think about it when I'm in pain, "I say dryly, "if you just wanted to talk, why not try contacting me through...the mind magic?" I hesitated at the word, unable to think of a specific word for the mental communication.

"As if you'd listen to me," the Boy-Who-Lived snorts, and I found myself agreeing to him immediately.

"Touché."

A tense silence ensues and Potter shifts uncomfortably on my mattress. Seeing me wince on the edge of the bed at the action, the Gryffindor immediately stops, uttering a soft apology.

"With all of your brooding, it seems as if _you_ were the one who got stuck on the bad end," I drawl, looking at the boy with sharp, cold eyes, "who's the emotional git now?"

He opens his mouth and pauses, seeking the right words to come forth. "Why did we even do it?" The whisper comes unbidden.

"I suppose our Half powers needed to be completely released at that particular time," I reply, keeping my voice controlled and curt, "we must be at the most mature stage of the curse right now; congratulations." My voice coats itself with heavy sarcasm at the last word, note turning sour at the admittance.

Potter continues to say nothing, staring idly into my soft sheets.

"Where were you when I apparated here? You weren't around for once."

"I was attending to the loo," my mouth forms a sneer, "I suppose you'd like to see me there?"

"Can't you be kind for once, Malfoy?" Harry sighs, running pale, trembling fingers through his wild hair.

My face contorts in a grimace and I shoot him a look.

_Don't molest me; I'm watching you,_ I think irritably as I slowly lie onto the bed. The painful tension and soreness resides considerably. _Ah, comfort for my aching back and poor behind._

Potter chuckles at my comment and I scowl, forgetting that I had accidentally voiced the words to him through my mind.

"Back to the point, why are you here? I hope you aren't about to declare your undying love for me."

"In your wildest fantasies, Malfoy," Potter scoffs before quieting, "I just thought...what would our friends think?"

"They will think nothing because they will never know," I immediately answer, raising a cautious eyebrow towards the sulking boy, "am I correct?" He nods slightly, both of us knowing the consequences of our actions. Potter clears his throat, nervous voice trembling as he begins to speak.

"To be honest, the other reason I'm here is that," another gulp of air, "I think that the powers aren't finished developing."

"What?" I raise my frantic voice slightly, clearly startled and unnerved by the fact, "whatever do you mean by tha-"

He crushed me against the comfortable spread, warm hands pushing my slight shoulders back and I gasp in surprise.

"Potter, what in Hogwarts do you-"

A finger to my lips, a soft smirk replacing his forlorn smile.

"_Shh."_

_You also accused me of being the bipolar one. _I hiss into his mind.

Another mental chuckle came from the man above me and once again I find myself racing towards the glowing moon, back arching towards the destination as I feel flesh sliding upon flesh, puffs of golden bliss and gasps of magical nothingness echoing through both of our minds.

"I hate you," I breathe into his damp hair; a strangled cry issued from my dry throat. I feel him smile on my pale neck, sturdy arms clutched possessively around my fragile body, "I know," he sighs softly, and I shiver as I feel his warm air tingling near my sensitive ear.

_...My back is really going to pay for this._

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

I groggily awake alone; hardly a surprise. This...power development had gone on for a good month and the routine had become hauntingly familiar; one of us would apparate to the other and the ritual would begin—it was not as if we had a choice! The desperate tingle had unwillingly forced us together and we survived off of one another in our desperate battle to attain power.

"_You know this means nothing." I told him one night as he leaned over to touch my face._

_He said nothing, calmly gazing at me with his familiar orbs and hesitating before moving closer._

"_I know." He finally exhaled; my lips felt his soft breath and I pulled back._

"_I hate you."_

"_I know."_

"_I really do."_

_A soft chuckle. "I know."_

"_Stop saying that!" _

"_What?"_

"_That you bloody know everything, insufferable prat!"_

_He smiled again, surrounding me in his infectious warmth._

I shiver, glancing at the ever-present opal that would signal Potter's demise. Would I really be able to go through with the plan? Is it true that everything this past month had been mere lies and quests for unquenchable power?

_Of course; the only thing meaningful for a tool is anything that would help it accomplish the mission_

I sigh, reaching for the sullen gem; it is time, and tonight would be the hour of my other Half's complete failure

I pass the Gryffindor in the halls between classes and I risk a sneer at him. On cue, his handsome mask transforms into a look of loathing—much like mine—and we challenge each other in a silent duel of minds.

"Is Malfoy being a prat again?" The Weasel's voice breaks through our plastic ice.

"He's being the usual," Potter's tired sigh comes; words exactly as I had imagined it.

"Ignore them," I order to Crabbe and Goyle, who had moved threateningly to the Golden Trio plus the new Weaselette. The girl looks at me with wide eyes, her face shining with open curiosity.

"What?" I snarl at the girl, "can't resist my rich upbringing?"

She immediately shifts away, blushing as her brother yells something incoherent in her defense. I turn away, making a dramatic exit through an exaggerated flurry of robes and loud echoes of confident strides upon the cold stone.

Unfortunately, the dratted Weasel appeared in all of his impoverished glory with the rest of the hopeless Gryffindors to share the Slytherin's Advanced Care of Magical Creatures class. Why one would need seven years worth of such a useless class is clearly beyond me.

Along with Crabbe and Goyle, which I sat between, Pansy and Blaise grouped in front of me, incidentally right behind the treacherous Ron Weasely. Apparently, he seemed to be enjoying himself, guffawing and heartily slapping the back of Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas as they conversed. Harry sat next to the red-haired man, a nervous smile pasted onto his fake features as Hermione tried to crawl into his lap.

_Or at least that is what it seems like_, I snarl, lips curling into an angry sneer as I glare at the oblivious girl in front of me. Another burst of shrieking mirth came from the Gryffindor brutes.

"-and what's more—you won't _believe_ this, Seamus—they were kissing! _Kissing!_ Or at least that's what I heard from Justin Finch-Fletchley." Ron roars.

"What happened?" Dean questions, his attention now diverted from the wailing creature on his knee.

"Ron says that there were two Hufflepuffs snogging in the bathroom," Finnigan explains, facial features looking green and queasy, "and Justin caught them in the act."

Dean's eyes widen to the size of bludgers as he whips his head towards Seamus in surprise. "That would explain why the Hufflepuffs have been so tense lately."

The Weasel snorts, sniffing. "I should have known the Hufflepuffs would be the one to house such beings."

"Truly so," Hermione nodded, "I can't possibly fathom how people could...could _fancy_ such ideas; it is absolutely revolting."

"Well said," Weasley continues in appreciation, "who knows what _other_ things those Hufflepuffs have done, am I right, Harry?"

Potter had turned away, looking down into his lap as he continues to feed his creature. He twists around in an act of stretching, pausing as his eyes casually flicker over mine. "Sorry Ron, I was not paying attention."

"Justin Finch-Fletchley caught two Hufflepuffs in the bathroom," Pansy clarifies, forcing Potter to look at her, his trapped expression neatly hidden by his facade of innocent confusion. Looking exasperated, Pansy pouts. "They were _snogging_, Potter, and both of them were boys."

Keeping his expression hidden, Potter turns back to his creature. "I wonder how Hufflepuff is treating them."

"With obvious contempt," snorts Ron," their house is shamed! Imagine what would occur if this happened in Gryffindor."

"That would never take place!" Hermione argues," these sorts of things are only something that Hufflepuffs would discover."

"And what are we talking so avidly about?" My own voice snaps, breaking the animated conversation.

"Malfoy." Weasley snarls, hatred lacing his tone into ribbons and knots.

"Draco," Blaise says smoothly, "we were just talking about the questionable Hufflepuff males. Would you like to think of various seething remarks to say to them later?"

I carefully think about my response; if I reject Blaise's offer, then eyebrows would be raised and questions afloat, however, there is no way I could accept.

_Why not?_ The creature in my lap looks at me, my reflection gazing through its scarlet eyes.

I ignore it, a sharp thrust of pain shooting into my abdomen as I smoothly answer. "They are far too below me to even consider speaking to." I reassure my position with a contemptuous sniff before turning harshly away, unable to risk seeing the face of boy who I was so deeply in sin with.

"I don't think you should bother them at all; the Hufflepuffs have enough to think about." The Boy-Who-Lived says quietly, his weak voice strained and trembling.

"Harry, you don't have to be so kind to _everyone_," Hermione logically reasons, "if you are uncomfortable with some things—especially when it is so _wrong—_it is only natural for humans to argue."

"I don't think it has anything to do with him being kind," Pansy sneers, her Slytherin side crawling over her good intentions," _Harry_'s probably one of them."

The change was immediate; the creature on his lap yelps and scampers away as Potter abruptly rises from his chair, face mottled red as violent magic blows around him, causing Hagrid to yell in surprise.

"Don't you _ever_ associate me with them," the Gryffindor threatens, soft eyes now flashing dangerously.

"Calm down, it was a joke!" Pansy squeals in terror, large eyes bulging at the sudden surge of immense power. Harry says nothing, whirling around in a frustrated swirl of robes that would put Snape's own move to shame as he angrily stalks away.

I watch him walk pass the bushes, unaware of my own liquid ice spreading through my tattered soul.

"_Don't you –ever- associate me with them!"_

Soft giggles burst forth from supple lips, quickly turning into a loud, mad cackle. "Well said, Potter." I choke, laughing again in humiliation and self-disgust as the people around me look at my trembling, hunched figure in unabashed curiosity. "Well said."

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"What are you doing here, Potter?" A resigned voice wafts through my ears.

I slowly walk towards the blonde, leaning over his tired form as the familiar tingles buzz excitedly within my body. "Why do _you_ come to my room?" I ask back, challenging him to talk of our past deeds.

He sighs, turning around. "I haven't been to your disgusting Gryffindor pit ever since the Weasel almost caught us...although I'm not sure how he heard us, as the Half magic normally prevents people from walking in."

I shrug. "We can just cast the Silence charm and a few Disillusionment charms to avert their gaze, like we always do."

"I recall that _you_ were the one who had been distressed over our strange power issue; what happened?" Draco sneers sarcastically, "sometimes I wonder why you're even here, especially after today's Magical Creatures lecture." He storms out the door, forcing me to wait until he is completely out of the Slytherin dungeons before I can apparate to him in order to prevent other Slytherins from noticing me.

"Both you and I know it is the magic that makes us do these things!" I insist, grabbing on to Malfoy's elbow as we reach an empty hallway. "Why are you so angry about this?"

The white-blonde head snaps up to me, gazing fiercely into my own orbs as his thin lips curl in disgust. "Whoever told you I was angry?"

I wave my free hand in frustration. "Just _look_ at how you are acting!" I all but shout, "not to mention I can sense vibes of...of _fury_ or something radiating off your body!"

Draco stills and stiffens, his back rigid as he moves closer, grabbing the collar of my robes. "I told you not to read into my mind or emotions," he hisses, voice low and threatening, "why can't you even allow me that favor?"

"Like you haven't read mine." I scoff back, unable to meet his betrayed gaze.

"No," he whispers, "I've never." I feel my jaw open in shock as he turns away, reaching into his robes.

"You know that it has been a month since we've been meeting like this," he continues, "a month since you found out about my plans."

_The Deatheaters will be here to destroy me._

"However, you still came to me," he remarks; voice tinged with venom, "what a brave, brave Gryffindor."

"_I wasn't going to go through with it. I was going defy the Malfoy name because I felt the plan was too cowardly and unjust." _He now speaks within my head, allowing me a rare insight into his mind.

"_I spent so much time debating whether or not I should follow my chosen path; after all, tools always do as they are told. On the other hand, you are my other Half, the one who I had been through so many experiences with—although not all of them were good." _A dry chuckle follows the Slytherin's speech.

"_I felt that we had reached some sort of truce; a boundary in which we both understood and respected each other." _The voice turned wistful, _"How very wrong I was."_

Malfoy brings out a white opal, its luminescent surface casting light ripples throughout the shadows. _"You are the one who makes the choices for me, Harry, just like you have made this one."_

I feel a surge of complete betrayal howling within my ears as a breeze of indistinguishable sadness sweeps across my cheeks. There was no trace of anger or even hatred, just a deep yearning and loss which tinted my senses.

Draco lifts the Dark stone above his head, its light growing stronger. Reaching the state of blindness, the gem explodes, knocking the Slytherin into a wall. By the time the dust cleared over, I had staggered into a wall and was now surrounded by five Deatheaters.

"Greetings, Harry Potter." One of them smirked, her familiar pitch causing my eyes to burn in hatred.

"Bellatrix." I snarl, telling my body to reach for my wand; however, the negative emotions from Draco had rooted themselves into my mind, forcing me to be still.

"Aww, poor baby, is he too scared to take out his wand?" She coos, making the hairs of my neck bristle.

"Lestrange, we are here to dispose of him quickly and efficiently," another voice hisses, "as much as I'd like to, it is unnecessary to taunt and torture."

The silent figure nearest to me points his offending wand towards my face, the cool, Malfoy-voice calmly mouthing his curse in a clear, determined voice.

"Avada Kedavra."

"_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo!" _The shriek resounds within my head, panic clouding the bright green light of the Unforgivable and I swivel my head over to the noise.

"_Draco..._"

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"_I hope you are happy now."_

I watch with wide, terrified eyes as Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, crumples to the ground, a smile daring to run across his ashen face.

_How can you say I am happy? I never wanted you dead!_ I scream at the corpse, willing it to move.

_Liar,_ a voice hisses softly into my ear, _you wanted him to stay away so you can resume your familiar role as a tool._

Before I could retort, Lucius walks over to me, a triumphant gleam in his eye. "Stand up, Draco; it is unbecoming of a Malfoy to lay on the floor."

Following his orders, I scramble up and remind myself of my secured destiny. "Yes, Father."

"With Harry Potter gone, our Lord is guaranteed to be the victor."

"But what of the prophecy?" I insist, suddenly grabbing the man's sleeve, "isn't Voldemort supposed to kill Harry, or the other way around?"

Lucius spitefully looks at me. "There is no 'other way around'," he snarls, snatching his robe from my trembling fingers, "and we clearly eliminated the Potter boy; he is not even breathing."

Walking briskly back to his fellow Deatheaters, they portkey away in the blink of an owl's eye and I am left alone with the cold body of a Boy-Who-Lived.

I crawl over to it, unable to touch the stone face; the curse had coincidentally hit his scar, causing it to bleed anew and run scarlet across his smiling face.

_His smiling face._

"Stop it." I tell the pale corpse, chiding the cold lips that the dead do not smile.

I put my finger near the boy's nostrils, feeling for any sign of air.

There was none.

Now the fingers are over my mouth and I bite them to prevent my strangled cries. My watering eyes itch with a burning sensation and my throat fills with bile.

"Wake up, Potter. You are the Boy-Who-Lived," I whisper, slapping his dead heart with my hand, "wake up! Heroes shouldn't lie dead and breathless six feet under!"

A cold wave washes across my body and I feel the blood drain from my face.

_This is my fault._

I was the one who followed the mission; I was the one who froze Potter with my sudden sense of betrayal.

_Could this have been the Half prophecy? Is this how it ends?_

_**No.**_

"I will not allow it!" I scream, battering the boy's chest with my frantic fists, "You are my other Half! You **_will_** awaken!"

Light and magic burst forth, raw and trilling with blasts of music as it swept from my fists and imprinted itself into the place of the Gryffindor's heart.

**I refuse for you to leave me so soon!**

The symphony rushes into Harry's heart and just as quickly, his body heaves and gasps in light tremors and convulsions.

Harry Potter was breathing again.

My fingers trembling with relief instead of devastation, I try to shake the boy awake.

"Come on, Potter, you can do it. Wake up, boy, wake up!"

Harry continues to sleep. Another flare of panic rises from my chest and I grab the warming body into my arms.

"Madam Pomfrey's! Let's go, Harry; you need to survive." Levitating the breathing boy, I rush to the infirmary, knowing that I had made my decision, though it might be too late.

_Comatose or not, Harry will wake up. Harry **must** wake up._

_...For me? Harry, please?

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**AN:** Argh! I honestly was going to get to the part where Harry and Draco get together and all is happy...but I felt it was too cliche D: Not to mention I decided to switch some events around and...yea o.o; In all actuality, the opal incident was supposed to be last chapter, but somehow I always manage to talk too much x.x; Rawr, I've decided not to give Harry and Draco a "normal" relationship until much, much later. Why? Because it's just so much more fun ;D

**PS:** I was also going to leave a dead Harry in this chapter, leading to a nasty cliffhanger. However, I personally dislike cliffhangers, as it makes me growl and leap at poor unsuspecting authors : ( SOOoooooo, I gave you a...not really cliffhanger thing? O.o;

**PS (Song):** The song used in this chapter is called "You Weren't There" by Lene Marlin.

**Next Chapter:**

Harry's in a coma, and Christmas break is on its way! With Draco's guilty conscience and his new path, what dangers follow? Will Harry wake up? Or is this the end? More realizations and acceptances to come, next chapter! (Oh and of course, more HarryDraco fun ;D)

**Shoutouts:**

_Yurikitsune:_ Indeed, I made Colin a bit evil in my ficcie x.o and be warned, he appears again, causing even more trouble a few chapters from now...nyohohohoho! (Tries to act foreshadowy and sinister while failing miserably)

_Devinnetiuh: _Updated! You like? If you do, review please: )

_Orlandoroxmysox:_ I tried so hard not to make it AU, but alas, the fifth book just didn't agree with me : (

_Mou: _True, but their bond is...erratic (or at least it _was_, until this chapter ;D) However, they are also able to block each other from most emotions depending on their will...you'll see more of this in the next few chapters : )

_Ater Phasma:_ -pats Ater on the back- I agree, cliches are easy and oh-so-lovely, and I'm working on the non-cliche plan right now (although it won't be coming for a while, since Harry and Draco got a lot of obstacles ahead of them...) Thanks for bringing up the review thing though. I've actually been a bit concerned over that, but none of my other ficcies have had that problem, and I've put almost thirty review responses in them...so I'll keep my fingers crossed? X.x; If this _does_ get deleted, I'll simply put it up again, without responses :3 Though I admit I'm a bit curious as to why a high word count would be preferable...-blinks-

_Pink-xXx-Kiss:_ Hehe, unfortunately, Harry and Draco won't be getting together soon at all (although there _will_ be a lot of HarryDraco fun time, if that's a compromise). :) Love your review! –hearts-

_Cheezewizz: _Haha, yea, roller coasters are fun :3 I love your review, its so inspiring! XD Though I admit that I must agree, I've read fics where info is given too obviously or the plot becomes boring, which is why I'm trying to prevent that in my fic :) Please alert me if I ever make a mistake like that:D

_iNsAnE nO bAkA: _The speedy update was because I neglected my Naruto fic for this one XD; ...and I've done it again –sulks in corner- arrrgh, must work on my other poor ficcie x.x; Hope you enjoy this chapter :) (Not to mention I'll most likely put off my Naruto fic for this one...again. e.e)

**Remember, if you have any questions, comments, or criticisms, please give me a Review. : )**


	7. Maybe, Just Possibly

**A/N:** Mm, this chapter is a little risque for me (much like the last chapter), as this chapter contains religion (just a teensy part). Please do not take any offense from it, as I myself have studied four years of religious customs and mean no harm :x

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco dwell behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

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Masquerade – Maybe, Just Possibly

* * *

**Last day before Christmas Holidays.**

The covers shift over my frozen body, unable to give me the warmth that I desire. He came to me everyday, forcing me to relive our sinful deeds and my ultimate betrayal.

Only through the remembrance of him do I feel any heat.

I see his face as though it was yesterday that we met; the determined, calm gaze with which he looked at me as he apparated to my side. Sometimes, I remember the slightly bewildered, yet content smile he would give me when I was the one who apparated to him.

I remember the passion; the fervor in which we flung ourselves into the heated dance of magic and power similar to two storms crashing and becoming a giant whirlwind of strength.

Sudden warmth flows through my body, the heated liquid beginning to uncurl from my stomach. I stop moving, my dull breathing pattern seeming loud and harsh against sensitive ears.

His face had been sad; not because he knew he was to die, but because he had caused my suffering.

_Why should he agonize over my fate? We hate each other._

The slow smile he parted to me as his last gift stays in my mind, mocking me whenever I close my eyes. It was a selfless smile; something I would have never known.

_Why would he be so tender to a tool? He is dark himself._

The boy truly was cold and dark, unable to stay innocent and pure through the evil events that had forced him to awaken.

_And yet he is still kind._

Even to his enemy; the one he knew would ultimately destroy him and end the world of Light. _I_ was the one who he had shown friendship to; me, a mere tool whose only objective was to be used and thrown away. He had shown dislike over our way of attaining power—as I had been—but he had not rejected it. Instead, he accepted the magic with calm dignity, faltering only once when faced with something he had never experienced.

_Something –I- had never experienced._

I repaid him with hatred, unable to acknowledge our rare powers and turning away from it with shame. Furthermore, I had turned hypocritical, yelling and cursing at the boy for daring to be ashamed of showing ourselves. In my rage, I had killed him.

**_Guilt consumed me._**

Tears threaten to course down my cheeks, teetering off the brink of my eyelids. Of course, Malfoys never cry, and death is hardly an excuse for tears. I brought the dead back to life, or at least the shell of him. I had refused to visit him ever since, venting my rage and frustration through anyone who dared ask me about the Boy-Who-Lived.

"_Are you sure there is nothing you would like to say?" Dumbledore questioned, his eyes tired and riddled with sympathy. Sullenly, I shook my head, staring at frozen hands._

"_Albus, he is a Slytherin; his hatred for Mr. Potter must have caused him to curse the boy," Professor McGonagall declared, and I felt her harsh gaze pierce my skull, "surely his silence must be a confession."_

_The Headmaster shook his head slowly, a dull twinkle proving that the old fool knew more then he let on. "No, Minerva, if young Draco would not like to speak, then it is his decision."_

"_What if the curse kills him?" Minerva pushed, unable to relinquish her hold on the subject._

"_It is not a curse," Poppy Pomfrey interrupted, "there is no trace of magical or physical harm done on the boy, nor is he susceptible to spells such as Enervate. I fear this is something we have never encountered."_

"_Mr. Malfoy, tell us what you did to him at once," Professor McGonagall ordered crisply, "you realize that your actions may cause you expulsion."_

"_Minerva." Dumbledore cried, "this is something we do not understand, do not blame the boy for something he may not have done."_

But it _is_ something I have done; with my hatred and my confused rage, I had managed to kill the Boy-Who-Lived. Therefore, it is not my place to see him; I have no right. His friends came to entertain the comatose boy everyday until Christmas Break, but I am not his friend. I am forever his enemy and his murderer.

In fact, I decided to seclude myself from the others, forgoing the annual Yule Ball for a time of peace. I had known that I would only be faced with gossip and whisperings of me and the Golden Hero if I had shown my face.

Closing my eyes in shame, I suddenly find myself next to the person of my thoughts. Trying to wish myself back, I find myself, for some unknown reason, unable. Over a week of trying to avoid the infirmary all together, the magic or some sadistic higher being now seems to find joy at my pain of seeing the victim.

Stiffly taking a seat by his side, I raise my shaking hand to his face, clumsily brushing his messy fringe from closed eyes.

_You hate this boy,_ I calmly tell myself, _shouldn't you be glad that he is near dead? Rejoice, for you have completed your mission._

I shake my head of the contrasting thoughts, trying to remember my place as a tool.

_Tools feel nothing; they stay calm and collected through all of its jobs._

I look again at my other Half, noting his shallow breathing and his gaunt face. I raise his limp hand, pressing it against my heated face. Suddenly the dam which held my guild broke, and I hiss, fleeing the room by foot like a coward and wishing with all my might that no one had seen my red-rimmed eyes.

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Christmas Break had come and gone; there was one last day of glorious freedom before returning to the mundane classes of Hogwarts. Of course, I had been at the school the entire vacation as a punishment by Lucius for failing my first mission. Fortunately, I take it as a mixed blessing; I am glad that I do not have to face the man yet hating him for forcing me to see Potter.

In fact, I am sitting next to the boy at this very moment, as I had been for the entire duration of the break. My emotions are still conflicted, unsure as to how I should be feeling over his demise.

_The Dark Lord will win! _My voice whispers, _Darkness will prevail._

_He is your other Half,_ the other voice replies_. He has been through many hardships with you._

If Madam Pomfrey is not present, sometimes I even sleep next to him, guilt continuously wracking my tense body.

_Why am I like this? No one knows what Potter and I have done, and now no one ever will; I should be glad._

I steal a glance at his pale lips, slightly parted and quivering as Harry takes another ragged breath. Looking sharply away, I wonder again why I am having such mixed feelings. Surely I should be happy, as every instinct tells me to.

_He is the only one like you, _the breeze argues, _he is the only one who understands._

_Shut up!_ _Lucius is glad that he is gone, as should I; after all, I was the one who destroyed him._

The voice dares to sound amused. _You were not the one who uttered the Dark curse; it was your Father. Now Death has taken your other Half, or at least it will if he stays in this condition._

I jolt from Potter's lap, gazing into the mirror with quiet surprise.

_I didn't kill him._

Relief floods into me as the guilt washes away.

_Death will take him._

It returns with full force, causing me to stumble from my chair.

_I didn't kill him, yet I do not have him._

_No!_ Fumbling hands reach clumsily for the body on the bed, gripping sheets hard enough to turn knuckles white.

_**Only –I- can kill him!**_

I possessively crush my lips against his reddened scar by instinct, willing him to breathe and awaken. Feeling the glorious golden mist force itself into his scar, I clutch his robe tightly, unable to let go. Potter makes a loud gasp, coughing as my Half magic pours into him, forcing him to heal.

_No one, not even Death, can take you, Potter._

**_You are mine and mine alone_.**

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Opening my blurry eyes, I find the room bereft of any living being, yet the chair beside me is still warm. I am aware of the golden speckles which have surrounded me, urging me to awaken.

_Draco has been here._

I still remember Lucius Malfoy's cold glance, his Avada Kedavra forcing itself into my head.

_Draco healed me._

The surety of it floods my system, allowing no room for doubt. _But why?_

Ignoring Madam Pomfrey's sudden gasp of surprise as she opens the door to find me awake, I apparate to my other Half.

I silently sneak behind him, wrapping my arms behind him into a tight embrace.

"Wha-Potter?" He squawks, trying to pry me away. I smile into his ear.

"You betrayed me, Draco." He hears me and stiffens, unable to say a word.

"Of course I betrayed you," he monotonously replies after a moment, as if rehearsed, "it is my job; my duty."

"Yet you brought me back."

"I did no such thing!" He attempts to shake me free once more. I take a step backwards, forcing him to lean against me.

"Yes you did; I _know _you did. I felt your presence by me when I was collapsed."

"Well you felt wrong! I would never do such a thing, saving the enemy."

"Yet you sleep with him."

Now he turns around, violently pushing me away.

"What did you say?" he whispers, distancing himself from my body. I could sense his supple frame tense and tremble.

"You heard me! We even kis-"

"Don't say it!" He suddenly screams, "Malfoys do not consort with the enemy, least of all you!"

"Then what were we doing all those times?" I challenge back. "We have no choice but to accept it! Bloody hell, we even shag-"

"I told you not to say anything!" The pale Slytherin screams, clamping his slender hands to his ear, "I have _never_ thought of it that way and-"

I grab his wrists, shaking the panicked boy as I captured his eyes. "We shagged, Draco, almost every night for an entire month. Before that, we kissed; rather violently, may I add."

I can see his face grow paler by the second, eyes wide and cheeks burning with shame. "I told you not to say anything," he brokenly whispers.

"It is time we talk," I reply firmly, "through some sort of harsh event by our Half powers, we joined and you cannot deny that!"

"What would Lucius say? What would everyone say?" He willingly leans against me now, slumped over in defeat.

"No one needs to know," I respond gently, "we would not be accepted, even if it _is_ only for power." Holding the thin boy in my arms, I begin to wonder how the world would react if they knew that their Hero was shagging a boy of the Dark side.

"_But I hate you, I hate you so much."_

Unable to resist flinching, I softly reply _"I know" _before capturing his lips in a fierce kiss.

"_We are –not- kissing!"_ he exclaims, _"like you said before, this is merely an exchange of power."_

I smile but say nothing, instead laying him onto the bed.

"_Do you even know how long you've been in a coma?"_ Draco mutters in resignation, _"and the first thing you do is come to me. What would Madam Pomfrey think?"_

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Madam Pomfrey had been anything but pleased. She personally stormed her way into the Potions classroom, grabbed the scruff of my neck, and hauled my pathetic arse back to the infirmary.

"Mr. Potter, I do not like my patients disappearing whenever they feel like it," she scolds fiercely, "_especially_ when they have been in a coma for weeks!"

"I'm terribly sorry, Madam Pomfrey," I apologize, allowing a faint blush of shame to tinge my cheeks, "I was just shocked and confused."

The mediwitch softens, her gaze turning gentle and her look filled with pity. "Poor boy," she murmurs, "whatever happened to you?"

"That is what I would like to know," another voice proclaims, and I look up to see Albus Dumbledore stepping into the small room. "Is it because you have found your other Half?"

I look down and shiver. "Something of the sorts, I suppose."

"And is it the young Malfoy?" He questions again, a knowing twinkle in his eye. I turn my head sharply away, refusing to give information that he obviously knew.

"Merlin, the wizarding world is doomed," a new female voice exasperatedly sighs, revealing a drained Professor McGonagall. "They are going to destroy each other."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Albus ponders with amusement. "What do you think, Harry?"

I swallow, unable to tell them of my sins. "I don't know, sir; it is all so confusing to me."

They ask me a few more questions, and I answer them as well as I could without alerting them of any contact with Draco before being relieved of interrogation.

Walking back to the Dining Hall for lunch, an owl flies smack into my face, hooting in irritation as it bounces off clumsily. I pick up the dazed bird and recognize it as a school owl. Taking the letter from its leg, I read:

_Apparate to me tonight; I have something to discuss with you._

It had to be Draco; after all, no one knows of my abilities except for my other Half. I stride over to the Gryffindor table, a tendril of nervous anticipation already growing in my stomach.

"Harry!" Hermione gushes, tackling me in a death-defying hug, "I'm _so_ glad you are back! Whatever happened?"

"It was nothing," I reassure her, "I'm fine; trust me."

"We just want to know what happened," Ron insists, "surely you could trust your two best mates?"

"Well...Deatheaters attacked me," I whisper uncomfortably, earning shocked glances from the two.

"But Harry! How did they even get into the school?" 'Mione cries, grabbing onto my arm. "Did you even know this was going to happen?"

I shift away from her grasp, looking away just as Ron Weasley takes hold of my other limb.

"How in Merlin's name did you know?" He says fiercely, "and why didn't you tell us? We could have helped prevent the attack!"

_Well, I found out the plan while shagging Draco Malfoy, and I freely allowed him to cause me harm for reasons I do not understand._

I sigh, shaking my head in mock repentance and unable to say a word. Friends or not, they, like most wizards and muggles of this modern age, would find it difficult to digest a relationship with two males, especially when they used to be enemies.

"It is over and done with," I finally say tiredly, "please just leave it be."

Over their raging tirades and rambles of "You are our Hero, and we must make sure you are safe!" I find a strange exhilaration in knowing that my other Half wanted to tell me something; a discussion which was thought-provoking and intelligent, although often malicious and tense.

Later, when I am sure that everyone is asleep, I will myself to Draco Malfoy, finding myself on the Quidditch field.

"You came," he murmurs, "I was almost expecting you to ignore me."

"Why?" I demand. "And what do you want to converse with me, that you cannot do in mind speech?"

He looks over my direction, sneering. "Stop with the smart remarks, Potter, it does not suit your image."

I snarl back, hackles raised. "When did a _Malfoy_ ever care about how I act?"

"I didn't call you here to listen to your half-brain remarks, Scar Boy," he spits, "I have been researching our disease."

I raise a skeptical eyebrow. "You mean our Half powers?"

"Somewhat; I have been trying to find a solution to stop our Half powers from wanting to expand." At my confused expression, Draco sighs and clarifies," I want to stop our Half powers from influencing our youthful...urges." He wrinkles his slender nose and sticks out a tongue at the remark as if it was distasteful to even mention our habits.

"When did you find time for this?" I hear myself say instead, clearly puzzled.

"I had plenty of time scourging books in the Restricted Section during Christmas Break." He tosses a page to me, hastily scribbled with notes and other oddities. "This is a spell which I believe can contain our hidden desire to grow more powerful, therefore eliminating our tendencies to 'meet'."

He shivers at the implication again, and I wonder if he would go into convulsions just by thinking of the topic.

"With this spell, we can be free!" He triumphantly grins. "Wouldn't that be grand?" I nod slowly, and he takes his wand with a flourish.

"Let's see, I raise my wand slowly like this, point it at you, then me, and then you say..." Draco begins to mutter, eyebrows creasing in concentration. I wait patiently until the Slytherin finishes his wordy tirade and begins to perform the spell.

We stand in the middle of the field and Malfoy waits until the luminous moon is completely shown, glimmering between the clumps of grey. Slowly, he twirls his wand while whispering in a spray of Latin, first pointing to me. His wand begins to glow a solid green, then blue when he points to himself, after I finally utter the last phrase, a bright, flaring gold shoots towards the moon.

Automatically, a shower of multi-colored sparks emits from the tip of his instrument, exploding into a small colorful wave of sparkles. As the colors fade and the atmosphere grows quiet and heavy, I realize that something was amiss. At first I thought it was the spell which had caused the awkward silence, but after seeing Draco's hunched form and hidden face, comprehension dawned upon me; the spell had failed.

"It didn't work," he whispers in shock, "I was sure this would end everything."

I slowly walk over, clasping a nervous hand onto his slumped shoulder. "Cheer up, Malfoy. At least we got to see miniature fireworks."

"Fireworks?" He asks, gazing at me with dead eyes.

"A muggle contraption," I explain, "the Muggles mix powders together, igniting them with fire and transforming powders into large, beautiful displays in the sky."

"Like alchemy," the blonde whispers in silent wonder, "and how large are they?"

"Huge," I reply immediately, reminiscing of the times I saw the beautiful sparks from a distance, "like stars that burn into your mind."

Malfoy grows silent, his disappointment at his failed spell slowly fading into dusk. "I would like to see that," he says quietly, "the fireworks."

"One day," I promise back, holding him against me, "one day."

Suddenly, we again remember that we are mortal enemies, and Malfoy violently pushes me away.

"Potter, do stop trying to touch me, you are tainting my robes," he snaps tiredly with a defeated tone.

My own hands feel corrupted as I think of what I have done with the Slytherin, but it fades to tingles and I ponder over my reaction as I flex them.

"Look, Malfoy, we cannot stop what we do," I sigh," so we might as well go with the flow of magic and enjoy it."

"_Enjoy_ it?" he gasps. "Potter, if I knew you were a hidden nancy boy, I would have never gotten close-"

"I mean it," I insist," I know we can't resist this magic, and the more we struggle the more we feel unneeded pain."

"So you want us to do this willingly?" the Slytherin interrupts. I nod slowly and Draco steps back. He straightens his posture and stares at me with conceited eyes. "You realize that you are dragging us deeper into humiliation? If anyone finds out-"

"_No one_ will find out," I reply firmly, "we will take all precautions and organize our power occurrences instead of resisting until we end up desperate and hurting."

"Hurting for _me_," Draco says dryly, "my back felt as though it had been trampled by Hagrid's bloody Hippogriff more than once."

I laugh, a welcomed sound within our dark, shameful conversation. "So shall we have a truce; a truce to stop trying to tear each other's throats apart until the final day of battle?"

He considers the deal, pale fingers absently rubbing his pointed chin. "We'll still have to keep up our act of arguing in public."

"But we'll have this truce when we're alone."

The pale boy thinks slowly, cautiously weighing the pros and cons. "I suppose we could," he says reluctantly, "but I still hate you, and don't you ever forget that."

I flinch again, unable to contain my reaction. "I'll keep that in mind," I joke, holding out a hand for him to shake.

He stares at it, undoubtedly still contemplating over our deal.

"_We're signing ourselves over to each other" _I feel him think frantically, "_could it be any more shameful?_"

For a moment I think that Draco was going to slap my hand away, but instead he reaches past my outstretched limb and gently slides his cool fingers over my warm cheek.

Quickly, he closes the distance and soft lips press tensely against my own. As he shamefully pulls back, he whispers, "the deal is sealed. Tell me when we plan to meet through mind speech." Unable to face what he had just done, he begins to run from me.

"_A Malfoy kissing another boy on his own free will? Signing himself to such a traitorous truce? Lucius will kill me if he ever finds out."_ I hear him muttering to himself, cringing on his newly-made burden.

"_Hush,"_ I gently whisper back, surprising the boy from his thoughts, "_I will take care of everything; do not fear."_

"_Stop acting like you care!"_ The snarled response came, and the heavy door bolted and shut abruptly in my face.

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**I do not understand.**

This difficult vortex of emotions threatens my existence, wrapping me in a thick shroud of confusion for the several weeks of truce that I have been having with Potter.

Skilled fingers brush across sacred blue which lined the cover of a holy book; one that Muggles worship and idolize. Lightly, I trace the engraved symbol on the front; an elegant 't' of shining gold.

I should be agreeing whole-heartedly with the book and the customs which surround my situation; every aspect of my life points to the common answer:

**This is not right.**

Shivering, the memories of hot flesh and sinful thrills revive themselves into my mind. _Must I continue to do this for the sake of power?_ I glance curiously at the silent reflection near my bed.

_Why won't you speak anymore?_

Deserted to suffer at the hands of my own vile thoughts, I think again of the disappointment and disgust I would receive if anyone ever found out. My fist clenches, struggling to trust Potter's assurances.

"_No one knows; no one will find out."_

A second voice answers. _But my own being knows, and my own humiliation has found me out._

Already I could feel poisonous shame rushing through my head. _You even willingly agreed to be close to your enemy. Is that worth any amount of power?_

_Do I have a choice? The spell did not work._

_You could have refused the truce and continued resisting,_ Shame whispers, _but you chose the coward's way out._

My breathing deepened and panicking, I clutch my head to my trembling hands even as the voice continues to speak. _Draco, you **enjoy** it, don't you?_

"Draco, you are looking a little pale...you all right?"

_I wonder what Lucius would say to such a disgraceful tool..._

Cool hands reach out, gripping my arm. "Are you sick? Hurt? Or maybe-"

"_Don't touch me!_" I hear myself shriek, violently slapping the hands away.

"Draco, wha-"

"You're wrong! You're wrong! I _hate_ you!" My furious shrieks resound across the dark Slytherin walls, fading into darkness as Snape rushes in and casts Stupefy.

_I hate you._

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**I do not understand.**

The being known to Muggles as "God" willingly obliterated the people he had made and loved; Sodom and Gomorrah, cities of sin filled with thievery, idolization, murder, and...

I shake my head, unruly brown strands slapping against my gaunt face.

_You are supposed to be cool, calm, and omniscient,_ I remind myself. _What happened?_

I have always known that I was not the perfect Hero, nor was I the wonderful Boy-Who-Lived, destined to defeat Voldemort, marry, and have various Potter spawn. No, I was far from the expected Boy Wonder, especially in my current situation.

**This is not right!**

More thoughts of his pale blonde hair, sliding limbs, and taut stomach enter my mind. Shaking my head harshly, I fiercely will the images to go away. However, they stay, only growing stronger so that I could feel his heated skin on mine, the strong, frantic pulses of his beating heart against mine.

_The power of the Halves compel me,_ I tell myself, _they wish it to be this way, not me._

"Stare any harder and the crystal ball will crack," 'Mione whispers beside me, a clammy hand creeping onto my arm. "Are the visions not showing up or something?"

"When do they ever show up for anyone but Professor Trelawney?" I joke back, easily sliding away from her grasp in fraudulent shyness. I continue my thinking, a mask of frustrated vision-seeking already pasted on my face.

I had made a truce with Draco and come to terms with our "need." However, although Malfoy believes that I easily adapted to our situation, he was far from right.

_Does he really think I am so easy?_ I ponder to myself. _Or does he really think I am a bender?_

I was neither, although I had once believed that I was asexual after the minor interest in Cho Chang. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and Savior of the wizarding world, loved no one and showed interest in nobody.

_Until now,_ I scowl to myself, _because I am forced to perform such degradable acts by the will of my own magic._

Another burst of anger snaps inside my body, raging to be set free. _Just because I am calm about our situation does not mean I enjoy it!_ _I merely chose to compromise myself to prevent a situation from getting any more complex, you thick-headed git!_ I mentally yell at the arrogant Slytherin, half hoping that he would hear.

"Harry! You're making the room shake, are you sure you are all right?" Hermione whispers again, and I immediately calm myself before the expensive divination items drop to the floor. "Honestly, you've been so much _darker _lately!"

"Sorry, 'Mione, I just have a lot on my mind."

"But we are your friends, Harry!" Ron joins in, apparent hurt spreading onto his freckled features. "You always used to tell us everything."

"It is nothing, really," I reassure, "just the whole Boy-Who-Lived pressure getting to me, I suppose. I want a breath of fresh air sometimes, you know?"

Granger purses her lips, looking at me in grave concern. "You should have told us from the beginning; we would have understood," she insists, enforced by a forceful nod from Ron.

I sigh, beginning to devise strategies and plans that would hopefully divert my friends' attentions from me; an excuse that would help them stay clueless to the largest secret of my life.

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I noticed Draco Malfoy walk into the Great Hall in the middle of dinner, and the rumors of him having a sudden collapse sparked into my mind.

Of course, pride still wounded from the humiliating scuffle we had a few months ago, I couldn't resist jabbing at his newest rumor. I walk over to him, ignoring Hermione and Harry's cries of protests.

"Has being a Deatheater finally taken its toll on you, Malfoy?" I drawl, standing courageously in front of the Slytherin table. "That would explain your sudden breakdown today."

The Slytherin looks up with a frown, obviously irritated by my presence. "Haven't your parents raised you not to trust everything rumors say?" he challenges. "Or were they too busy looking for jobs to raise you properly?"

A flood of rage clouds my vision, and I could hear the satisfying crunch of Malfoy's broken nose ringing in my ears. I raise a fist threateningly, ready to make that sound reality.

"Ron, don't!" A soft voice cries from behind me, grabbing hold of my arm. Turning around, I notice that Ginny had taken a defensive stance between me and the Slytherin.

"Draco, I'm sorry about my brother, he just happens to have a quick temper," she explains sweetly. "Can I make this up to you?"

My stunned look must have caught Malfoy's eye, for he laughed aloud.

"Weasel, it seems the Weaselette here has more sense than you, and much more beauty too," he murmurs, voice flirtatious and effectively making my sister swoon.

"Ginny!" I hear myself cry in horror, "do you _fancy_ this bloke?"

She lifts her pointed chin at me, defiant eyes staring me down. "I do, Ron, and I won't have you hurting him for no reason."

"But he's a Malfoy and a Slytherin!" I plead. "He will eat you alive!"

The blonde boy now rises from his chair, ignoring my protests and casually leaning over Ginny. "About that offer, I believe I will-"

Malfoy stops talking, immediately looking up with narrowed eyes. Following his gaze, I become aware of the shaking utensils and darkened aura that seems to have settled over the Hall. Even Dumbledore had his hand places loosely on his wand as he watched the sudden flood of dark energy rumble through the room.

I gulp in fear; a sort of panic settling in my stomach. However, it was not because of the fact that Harry's obvious glare aimed in this direction, but rather the suppressed hunger of intensity towards Malfoy. Looking back, I notice that the blonde had the same look on his face, both boys eyeing each other as if they wanted to devour each other in heated rage...or passion.

The silence was now deafening, the ghosts cowering in corners and ceilings as the heavy atmosphere pressed down on everyone. Abruptly, as though they were having a mental conversation, Harry breaks off with an uncharacteristic snarl, stalking from the room.

The Hall starts to regain noise and I could see Hermione's confused-yet-envious gaze on my sister.

_But why does she need to be jealous? She would never fancy Malfoy, and I trust Harry enough not to lead her on behind my back._ A sharp pang of doubt shoots itself into my heart and I wince, glancing tiredly at Ginny's rebellious face before retreating back to my Gryffindor shelter.

_I will have to speak to Harry about this, if he really does fancy my sister. In fact, from the look of things, he will probably have to duel Malfoy over her as well._

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I apparate to Draco as soon as night descended, shoving him painfully into the wall of the boy's changing room.

"Just what do you think you are doing with Ron's sister?" I whisper harshly, rage misting over my vision.

"What does it matter to you?" he viciously snaps back. "You are not my keeper."

"You aren't serious with her," I declare, pinning the smaller boy with my body. He shoves back.

"And how would you know if I were serious or not? You can't read my mind," he spits, looking at me with a cool gaze, "or can you?"

I scoff. "If I were to try, I would find myself right."

He rolls his eyes, trying to leave. "You don't know me Potter, and it would do you some good to remember that." Suddenly, he turns around, regarding me with a knowing smirk. "It is not about the Weaselette, is it? You are jealous."

"Jealous of you? No, it is merely brotherly protectiveness." I defend before being thrown off by his vicious sneer.

"No, you pig-headed fool, you are jealous of _her_ for getting my attention."

"_What?_" my own enraged snarl comes. "Whatever made you think of _that_ nonsense?"

He ignores my outburst, continuing his smug argument. "Potter, a truce does not make us lovers. In fact, I vaguely remember myself telling you daily about how much I hate you." He pauses, flashing me an infuriating smile. "I hate you, by the way."

"Are you sure the Half powers even _let_ us become involved in other relationships?" I whisper; utterly defeated.

"So you _are_ jealous," the Slytherin cries triumphantly, pretending not to notice my objections. "As _flattered_ as I am for your unneeded affections, I find myself unable to return them."

"I do _not_ fancy you and I do not believe that you fancy Ginny, either!" I cry again, pushing him in rage. His eyes flash and he shoves back.

"It is not up to you who I fancy!" He shouts. "We are Halves, nothing more; you have no place in my life except on the battlefield!"

_Is this argument really because of Ron's sister?_ A question blooms within my frustrated mind. _Or are you really jealous, as he says you are?_

_Never!_ I vow silently, _I am just concerned for my friends._

"This truce is not going to work," I spit. "I'd rather stay miserable with need for power than come to you!"

"I agree," the Slytherin snaps back, "consider our deal severed!" He stalks off and my body looses all control. I slump against the wall, numb and absolutely confused.

As if last night was not enough, the next day Ron confronts me during breakfast.

"Where were you last night, Harry?" he demands. "I was looking all over for you! Not to mention you look like a Hippogriff chewed you to pieces and spit you back out."

"I needed some time alone," I reply glumly, idly spooning my bland porridge in random circles.

"Is it about Ginny?" he presses, "do you really fancy her?"

"No!" I snap, feeling apologetic when I see Ron flinch. "Maybe I'm just worried about her choice of blokes."

"So am I," Weasley sighs, "do you think Malfoy really fancies my sister?"

"It's bollocks," I respond immediately, "he'd play with anything that comes in his path."

_Like how he played you?_ A sinister voice whispers, and I involuntarily shiver.

"Are you sure? He has never had a girlfriend," Ron continues to think. "Maybe he _is_ a good choice for Ginny."

"Who _are_ you?" I say incredulously. "This is _Malfoy_ we are talking about!"

The redhead grumbles, laying his head in his arms. "I know, but Ginny truly seems to care for him, and he has the riches, formalities (when he chooses to), intelligence, power...even looks." At my inquisitive glance, Ron sighs again. "Come off it, Harry, all the girls talk about him like he is some sort of stunning Lord."

"Is that all Ginny cares for? Looks?" I demand. "Besides, Draco hasn't even agreed to date her yet."

"Are you sure you don't fancy my sister?" Ron asks again. "And when did you start calling Malfoy by his first name?"

_Blast._

"Might as well start getting used to him if he's going to be with Ginny," I yawn. "Or maybe I'm just knackered."

"Or jealous of Malfoy?" Hermione chimes. At my angry glare, she drops her head. "I'm just kidding, Harry, mighty touchy today, aren't we?"

_The whole world is after me,_ I think miserably as I head off to Potions, ignoring the two cackling Gryffindors behind me.

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Unable to get any sleep the night before, I watch in bored fascination as my porridge drips lazily off my spoon, disappearing and spreading into the bowl.

_Really, why would he care what I do, anyway?_ I think savagely._ Just because we're forced into our situations does not make us committed._

I stir the grey sludge around, wishing the puzzled haze in my mind would clear away. _Why am I even thinking about this? I should get with the Weaselette if not only to spite the blooming Gryffindors._

_But you can't,_ the spoon tells me. _You don't fancy her._

_Of course I don't fancy her!_ I snarl._ Tools have no emotion; I'm practically asexual!_

I plunge the spoon viciously back into the porridge before my reflection within it could reply, and I hastily stand up to walk to Potions. Coincidentally, I bump into a certain Gryffindor.

"Potter," I say with distaste, wrinkling my nose. "Must you always stain my robes with your Gryffindor stench?"

Instead of replying, Harry snorts in reply, rolling his eyes before walking away. Stung by his clear dismissal, I call out loudly to a certain Weasley.

"Ginny, would you like me to carry your books to class?"

"Draco, I shrink all my books..." she stumbles nervously, a blush forming on her cheeks. Potter stops, unwilling to turn and face me, yet unable to continue walking. A small tendril of satisfaction begins to unwind from my body.

"_You're jealous,"_ I crow. _"Poor, poor Potter, losing his one love to his best friend's sister!"_

Snarling, Harry leaps for me, ignoring Ginny's surprised shrieks.

"_Sod off!"_ Potter screams inside my mind, forcing me to wince at his anger. _"Stay away from us!"_

"_You're the one who's interfering!" _I yell back. "_Now quit your jealous nonsense before McGonagall takes away our Quidditch rights!"_

The word of Quidditch seemed to get through Potter's head and he reels back. Staggering like he cannot believe what he just did, he gives me a hurt glare before dragging Ginny away from the scene.

Potter started ignoring me soon after that, pretending as if I did not exist, even when I talked with Ginny to infuriate him. To be honest, it had begun to irk me, and the tingles throughout my body were almost unbearable at night.

_You can do without him; you must._

Of course I could live without Potter; in fact, it would be so much easier if he died so I would never have to think of him. The flashbacks of us invade my sleep, and I now find myself purposely staying awake to abstain from dreaming at all.

I convinced myself that each day would make the Half compulsion weaker, each second my urge to apparate to the boy would diminish. However, I found it to be the opposite, and my grades have risen drastically due to a sudden determination to delve into my studies.

_Even bullying others is no fun anymore,_ I mutter wistfully to myself. _And it has been nearly a month, too._

A familiar being pushes me out of his path, eyes straight ahead and refusing to spare a glance at my well being.

"_Prat,"_ I snarl into heavily barred doors. "_Selfish, arrogant, self-centered prat!"_

Harry's behavior confuses me, although my own behavior puzzles myself as well. Why he would be so angry at the thought of Ginny and I—not that we're even dating—was beyond me; after all, he never stated that he liked the Weaselette, and even if he did, he lost his chance when she moved on.

_He should be happy,_ I think viciously, _because I am gone and our secret will be buried into the past._ I reel back in pain from the remark, clutching my emptied chest for no apparent reason as Crabbe and Goyle look at me in concern.

"I am fine," I manage to croak as I pompously straighten my robes and continue walking. _Bloody Half powers, trying to spite me when your powers can't be strengthened? There is no way I am missing Harry Potter._

_I am not infatuated with the Boy-Who-Lived._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

I groan for the hundredth time, earning myself concerned looks from the other Gryffindors. Granted, I have been grumpy ever since Ginny confessed to bloody Malfoy and I'm earning sympathy looks as if they knew what had happened.

_It has been over a month and even –I- don't know what happened._

I am sure that I was not upset because I secretly fancied Ginny, and there is no way I'd be upset because I was jealous of her. Speaking of which, I don't believe that I would be the type to grow angry simply because I didn't approve of the Malfoys...

_So why?_

Deciding to retreat to the comforts of my room before I begin irritating the others, I cast a Silencio charm and climb into bed. _No, don't sleep!_ I tell myself, knowing that I'd be lost in the familiar dreams of a certain pale Slytherin with pointed features and a slender body. His hands were delicate and his face was...

_Aristocratic? No, he is too graceful to be—Stop it this instant! _I scream to myself, curling up and biting my lips. I may accept the fact that Malfoy is needed for our Half magic, but I refuse to think that it is actually infatuation or lust.

_Like anyone would lust after Malfoy. _

More images of the blasted blonde shoots into my head and I let out a loud groan of frustration. The tingles, which have been growing stronger since our argument, now buzz and throb stronger than before. A sudden thought freezes my mind.

_Have our powers been developing at all after our first joining? _Shockingly, I shake my head in a negative response; a horrific realization dawning upon me. _Merlin and his bloody wand, could our other meetings have been voluntary? Was our first time voluntary? Maybe we didn't have to develop new magic that way, but some innate desire of ours manifested itself in that time..._

Before I knew it, I had apparated to the Malfoy, who happened to be studying in his bed.

"Malfoy!" I shout, quickly casting Silencio over his bed and pulling the curtains down. "Malfoy, I've found out something I thought you should know."

"Blasted Salazar, Potter, don't scare me like that, damn you!" he shouts, clutching a frightened hand to his chest. "Now what was so important to make you come to me?" He now gazes at me with sullen eyes, daring me to admit that I was jealous. Instead, I roll my eyes.

"Sod off, Malfoy. It is not about that," I insist. "Have you realized that our magic has not increased since our first erm...session?"

"What do you mean has it increased? Of course it ha—oh bloody hell," I got a sudden sense of satisfaction as Malfoy's eyes grew larger. "What are you implying?"

"What if we didn't have to get physical contact by our um...heated encounters?" I blurt. "For all we know, if we just experimented, maybe the most we would have had to do was hold hands!"

"Would you stop your stuttering?" Draco snaps. "And why would we continue meeting if we did not _need_ to?"

I pause, looking deep into the Slytherin's wide eyes. "Do you think...maybe, just possibly...because we wanted to?" I suddenly realize that I had leaned forward, so close that I could feel the boy's breath on my lips. His own breath hitches, and he roughly shoves me away.

"Now I _know_ you're in love with me," he says in hesitant disgust.

"Lust," I admit, and his eyes grow large again, filled with not only shock but fear. "And you lust for me too."

"Definitely not," he scoffs, a look of arrogance pasted on his face. "I already told you I won't accept your declarations of love—or lust, for that matter."

"But you already have," I whisper, my smirk matching his fading sneer. "And you remember it—I can see it in your eyes—every time we met at secret hours, sometimes daring to find each other in deserted hallways before classes..."

"But I hate you," he whispers, unable to smirk any longer.

Controlling my flinch, I glance into his troubled orbs of blue-grey. "Who said that had anything to do with lust?"

I launch at him, pinning him to the bed as my lips greedily latch onto his. He mutters an "Oomph!" and falls over, relinquishing all control as he fervently kisses back, arms unconsciously wounding around my neck.

I smile into his mouth, taking the opportunity to run my fingers through his hair of white gold. _"I told you that you wanted me. Now I am sure that our escapades have nothing to do with our powers."_

"_Are you so sure about that?" _he responds back. _"Could the curse have started our passion for each other before we grew into it?"_

"_Never,"_ I declare passionately, obtaining a gasp from the thin boy when my hands brushed across the sensitive skin on his neck. _"No bond, spell, potion, or curse could cause passion from nothing; not even soul bonds."_

I whimper as I feel slender fingers crawl up my shirt. Lost in the haze of pleasure, I barely hear the boy in my thoughts. _"What do we do now? You and I both know that this cannot continue; someone will find us."_

"_Should we find substitutes?"_ I joke, and I am rewarded with a feral hiss as teeth scrapes harshly against my shoulder. "_I'm kidding, no need to get rough!"_

"_But every time we've met has been rough," _Draco purrs, unable to contain his growing excitement. Another rush of tingles flow up my spine at his comment, and I become aware that the blasted feeling was one of lust instead of magic.

We continue our reunion and I begin to wonder over the future of me and Draco; how will we be able to face each other in war knowing what we had once done?

Will I be able to take the life of the one who I had tasted? Will I be able to mercilessly destroy an enemy who had once been in my bed?

...Will I be able to kill the person who I might have loved?

_Not love, **lust.**_

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"Good morning," he murmurs into my ear, grabbing me from the dungeons before I got a chance to step into the Dining Hall. I roll my eyes, turning around and pinning my abductor to the wall. "Good morning back, Boy-Who-Lived," I mock, staring into his laughing eyes. He pulls me into a long kiss, and I delight in feeling the softness of his lips and his hard body against mine. Taking time to pull away and stroke his face, I absently wonder what could be if he was not the savior of the world.

_And if he was a girl,_ I remind myself, almost crinkling my nose at the thought. _Or not. I would not be able to stand him if he squealed like Pansy._

"Where do you want to meet today?" I whisper, subtly rubbing against his body as a seductive form of torture.

He takes the bait, closing his eyes as if he could prevent the torrents of pleasure flowing into him. "Draco, stop."

"I told you not to call me by my name," I murmur, continuing my actions, "and I think we should 'accidentally' bump into each other in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom during lunch."

"You know I can't argue with you right now," he pants. "Sneaky Slytherin to the end, I see."

"Glad you know it," I smirk, stepping back as the Gryffindor slumps against the wall to regain his breath. Straightening my robes, I walk to the Slytherin table, settling myself with a haughty air of conceit. I nod curtly to my other housemates, the cool mask sliding easily onto my face.

"You're late," Pansy whines, pulling away from her boyfriend as she jokingly latches onto my arm. "Did you sneak off with some little lass?"

"And mess up my hair?" I respond in mock horror, a smug smirk appearing onto my features as Pansy bursts out in laughter. She leans toward Blaise to repeat the joke, and they both share another round of mirth.

_Glad to know they're still going strong and steady._ I smile to myself, giving myself momentary pleasure at my small weakness of wishing the best for my friends. As if Lucius had heard my thoughts, a regal owl swooped down the Hall, dropping a small note as if it weighed a million Howlers.

Trembling, I slowly open the letter and my eyes widen.

_Draco,_

_It has come to my attention that the Potter boy is still alive. However, the Dark Lord has gracefully given us another chance. We will attack during Hogsmead and hurt those closest to Potter. Be wary and do not get in the way._

Lucius, the father I had never wanted, plans to kill, abduct, or adhere some other form of torture to Harry's friends! Thinking quickly, and almost blanching as I realize that I was the one who had been literally, "closest to Potter," I remember the Weasel and the Mudblood.

"_Harry!"_ I begin to shout, pounding on the doors to his mind. Suddenly, I pause, wondering what I am doing.

_I'm betraying my side to help Harry Potter? It is not like we're lovers, so why should I feel any sort of devotion towards him? I still want his doom!_

"_What is it, Draco?"_ his bewildered voice answers, catching me off guard.

"_Deatheaters are going to hurt your friends next Hogsmead, tell them not to go!" _I cry, previous thoughts flying out of my head. "_And don't call me that!"_ I add, his amusement glowing through his emotions of concern.

"_You called me by my name first,"_ Harry snickers. "_And don't worry, I'll tell them. Thanks, Malfoy, I don't know what I'd do without you."_

I blink, unable to interpret what Potter meant. _"Potter, did you just compliment me?"_

Sudden silence on the other end indicated that Potter had not meant for those words to slip out. _"It has been a while since accepting our attraction towards each other; I think it would be fine if you got some compliments once in a while—if it doesn't enlarge your already bloated ego, that is."_

I snort and close the link, my small chuckles earning looks from the other Slytherins.

_I betrayed them._

My eyes shoot open and I abruptly stand up, unable to deny my mistake._ I helped Potter and went against the wishes of my Lord._

_...What happens now?

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**AN:** Wow, I completed this chapter somewhat quickly. This chapter is (hopefully) consistent, as I have had to alter my original outline a bit, so if there are any confusions or things that just don't darn make sense, please tell me :)

**PS (Suggestion?):** Anyone want to recommend some good HPDM ficcies for me to read? I've probably scoured through billions of them, but I can never get enough! Not to mention I'm almost done reading the ficcie that **Yurikitsune **offered...(I can't keep my eyes off it!)

**Next Chapter:**

What is Draco going to do about his newfound devotion to Harry? Harry and Draco's romance seems a bit shaky...is it going to stabilize from lust to love? That seems a bit hard, considering someone's bound to find out about them eventually...

**Shoutouts:**

_ApacheSioux:_ Updated! Sooner than I anticipated, too! Hope you like this chapter as much as you've liked the others :)

_Pink –xXx-Kiss:_ With all those pleases, how can I _not_ update soon? XD Enjoy!

_Ater Phasma:_ Haha, I got confused at your review at first XD Then I switched 'em around and finally understood it! Being tired can indeed make some strange reviews (though I still enjoy em!) Interesting thing that people would want to imitate epics and the like o.o; and yesh! I wanted to continue their abuse relationship, but at the same time, I needed their relationship to get a move on so...poopies -.- and don't forget to tell me when your ficcie's first chapter is completed! I'll be sure to read it ;D (Even if it _is _HPSS and not HPDM...-sobs- I'm such a greedy little Draco-lover -.-)

_Kuraiyoshi:_ When I first read your review, I was like..."O.O!" Lol, your review really enlivens my review page :) Now whether Harry and Draco live or die...you'll have to continue reading ;D bwahahaha! (Aren't my little tries for suspense just pitiful? -.-)

_chantygal:_ Yarr, I admit I left out all the details T-T; I was a bit nervous about breaching the whole "NC-17" thing, so I decided to play safe and leave out...everything? –falls to the floor- I'm just glad it turned out well :) This chapter is a bit more descriptive, so I hope you enjoy this one more:D

_iNsAnE nO bAkA: _Haha, words escape me all the time XD then I end up repeating things over and over and over and over and over...

_mou:_ Updated!

_SpeechlessQuestion:_ Unfortunately, I left out Pomfrey's reaction since it made a pretty boring intro to the chapter –makes a face- poopers. I tried implying reactions and stuff though, not necessarily Poppy's reaction, but with students and stuff. And about Harry's friends...I suggest you read the next chapter –hint hint-

_Nocturnal007:_ I'll check out your ficcie riiiiiiiiiight after I finish up responding to your review ;D Can't wait!

_Devinnetiuh: _Updated! And pshhhhhh, what's evil? My cliffhangers aren't as bad as most peoples!...Are they? ;-;

_Mirokuluver's Friend:_ Bah, I hadn't meant for the chapter to be scary (I think o.o)! Well, as long as you liked it, I suppose –hearts- Hope you enjoy this chapter as well! ;D

**Feel free to comment and Review!**


	8. Found Out

**A/N:** This chapter somewhat combines with my original intention of the ficcie...a semi-dark fic where Harry is more dark than Draco. It was heavily influenced by a Doujinshi that I fell in love with (and first started my infatuation with HPDM). The doujinshi is called _Tactics_, by Fujii Mitsugu. If anyone has read the story before...ISN'T IT THE PURTIEST! –starry eyes-

**PS:** If anyone wants a sample of the doujinshi (as I'm not technically allowed to distribute it), I'll send a few pages or so to whoever asks :) (After that, I suggest that you look up google and find this doujinshi if you want more)

**PSS:** I dedicate this chapter to **Yurikitsune** for suggesting me the best fanfiction that ever spawned (Yes, _spawned_!) If anyone read chapter 19 of the latest story by Author **Lightning on the Wave** then you will know why I'm on a Cloud Nine high ;)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco dwell behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

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Masquerade – Found Out

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"Harry, bloody Merlin, Harry!" I hiss to the Gryffindor, scrambling towards him in the bathroom. Ignoring his questioning gaze, I continue to yell his name without restraint. "Did you tell your friends about the plan yet?"

"No, why? Has there been a change?"

"Yes!" I shriek. "Sort of...No." At his apprehensive look, I defiantly stare back at him. "But you don't understand! You can't tell them!"

"Why not? It is their right to know."

"No, it isn't!" I grab onto the boy's sleeve, cold lips quivering in panic. "Don't you realize that I just betrayed my Lord and my family?"

Obviously the Gryffindor was confused; he had begun chewing on his lip—which would have seemed sensual had I not been panicking—and furrowing his brows. Sighing in exasperation, I pleadingly look up at the brunette, attempting to convey my desperation through my eyes. "Lucius told me on the account that I was not to tell anyone; if he finds out that someone has heard of his plans, he will know it is because of me! I will be a traitor to our cause and outcasted!"

At Harry's stubborn gaze and my bitter disbelief, apparently emotions could not be transmitted in any way through eyes, unless one could count the way they slanted downward in sadness or tilted up in anger; in other words, Harry had no clue why my betrayal had any importance.

"Malfoy, you are doing the right thing-"

"You shagging imbecile!" I scream, now clutching the boy by the collar of his robes, "I made the mistake of telling you the plans and this error could very well cost my life!"

_Does your life really matter to you?_

Cursing my traitorous thoughts, I lower my gaze. "Just...just don't tell them, _please_?" A broken whisper made with a hoarse voice. Harry continued to look at me and I stare back desperately. _Come on, Harry, nod your head; don't you see how much this affects me? _Potter shakes his head slowly and my vision shatters into a million pieces, leaving me feeling as though the Giant Squid had pulled me under.

"I know this could endanger you, Malfoy, but I can't let Voldemort harm _anyone_, much less my friends," the Gryffindor says regretfully. At my shocked gaze, he continues. "It is ok to be scared, Draco, but don't worry, I can protect you."

_Protect me? Oh please._

I hear myself emit a short, barking laugh. "Protect me? Potter, I don't think you'd protect _anyone_ who worked for the Dark Lord."

"Then switch sides," he says resolutely, ignoring the way my jaw dropped upon his words. "It is obvious that you dislike working for Voldemort and you clearly despise your father. Go to Dumbledore and ask to join him."

Strangely, the thought of switching had never occurred to me before, as I was so focused on becoming the perfect tool. "...Would he even accept me?" I brokenly reply, tone bitter with an edge of fear. "Mordred's left foot, would _you_ accept me?"

The Boy-Who-Lived wraps his arms tightly around me, unconsciously persuading me to stay by his side. "After all we have been through, do you really believe that we could destroy each other in war?"

"We must," I reply, burying my head into the crook of his neck as my own hands slid up his back. "That is what the prophecy said."

**_Dark encounters light, either cancelling existence or blending into dusk; destroying prophecies or completing fate._**

"Sod the prophecy," he says determinately, giving me a fierce kiss. "It also said we could join together and...complete fate? That certainly sounds better than killing each other."

Easily melding my body against the Gryffindor in a strange pattern of familiarity, I force myself to relax against him. "You've always been the one who determined my choices, Potter," I whisper resignedly. "Perhaps you are right."

_I've been so tired; so tired of having to please those who raised me by performing acts that I detested. It had never crossed my mind that one day I would denounce everything I had lived for, no matter what good awaited on the other side._

"I still don't understand why you are doing this though," I sigh again, responding to his affections on my neck with choking gasps. "It is not like you care for me, or I for you."

"_I hate you."_

"And I love you," Potter jokes, giving me a cheeky grin. I gape at him at a loss for words and he chuckles. "Doesn't that sound more like something we should say when meeting like this?"

"No, that's just irresponsible; especially when you know it isn't true," I snap back, sudden irritation blooming through my body. However, irritation quickly turned to lust, and lust into a pleasure beyond anything describable. It flowed through me and affected Potter, causing him to continue his heated torture on my body. We fall to the floor in a naked heap of flesh and sweat; an early celebration of my sudden plans, and in the midst of our passion, I cannot help but wonder...

_Maybe, just maybe...a tool can be a human after all._

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I pause to look at my enemies—well, adversaries in a sense. On one hand, they were my friends, on the other, they were the very beings that would hate me if I revealed my true identity. I also knew that one wrong move would expose my deception and I was treading in dangerous waters. Thus, I was a bit unnerved when I saw Hermione lean over the table, glancing at me with suspicious eyes.

"Haven't you been acting strange lately?" she muses, twirling her brown curls absently around her lithe fingers.

"Whatever do you mean?" I smile back, refusing to let my secret be known.

"Yea, I don't understand what you are implying, 'Mione," Ron jumps to my defense, "maybe he's practicing Quidditch with his spare time."

"If it was, then Harry wouldn't be so secretive!" Hermione explodes. "Not to mention he has been disappearing at odd hours, running off without a good excuse, and-"

"I'd appreciate it if you'd talk like I'm still around," I say dryly. Unfortunately, I couldn't cover the last phrase that burst from the girl's mouth.

"-And looks at _him_ with such lustful eyes!"

_Bugger, girls are more perceptive than I had assumed; especially Hermione._

"At _who?_" Ron chokes. "Surely, you meant she-"

"At _Malfoy_!" 'Mione huffs, ignoring the way Ron blanched. Shaking himself from a grotesque thought, Ron counters, "I think it is more of a look filled with fervent rage." Granger shakes her head, and I think of the easiest response to silence her accusations.

"Are you jealous, 'Mione?"

She squawks, face tinged with scarlet as she whips around to look at me. "Are you admitting that you look at Malfoy?"

"No, it just seems like you're mad because my attentions are elsewhere," I clarify, watching her face slowly relax. "Actually, I suppose I have been secretive lately because I've got something big that I'd like you to know about."

"Do tell!" Ron whispers, his hushed tones growing steadily quieter as he ushers us back to the Gryffindor commons. "Is it about You-Know-Who?"

"Somewhat," I nod, settling onto the scarlet-gold couch. "Deatheaters are going to attack Hogsmead."

"What?" Hermione blurts, unable to contain herself. "When? And why?"

"They'll be attacking my closest friends—you two—so they can hurt me," I grimly respond. "May I suggest that you two not go out next Hogsmead Day?"

Hermione was the first to react, her shocked face turning resolute as she begins to plan. "I'm sure it could be prevented if we tell the Headmaster-"

"I think he'd just tell us to stay indoors, like Harry told us," Ron interrupts. "Besides, if we aren't there, then the Deatheaters would leave Hogsmead alone, wouldn't they?"

I chew my lip. "I don't know, Ron, but I don't trust the Headmaster enough to tell him everything." Memories of Sirius' death float anew in my mind, its flashbacks making me shiver in distaste.

At their sullen faces, I attempt to lighten the mood. "Jeez, Hermione, you really thought I had a thing for Malfoy?"

"_Malfoy."_

"_I love you," I whisper sensually to him, stroking his cheek in a caress that spoke of forbidden desires._

"_Stop saying things you don't mean," he gasps, arching towards me as I nuzzle his neck. "I hate you!"_

I don't know when I started repeating those words to him, but now they come out of my mouth almost every time we meet. Perhaps I really _did_ think that those words should be repeated when immersed in such actions, or maybe...I really meant them?

The thought of it opened new possibilities to me; endless realizations that flew through my head. Maybe I really came to love Malfoy, and it did not matter that he was of the same gender or in the rival House. He was not to be my enemy anymore, since he had promised to go to Dumbledore during Easter Holidays for protection. However, no matter what I felt or said...

_He still hates me._

He'd tell me of his hatred as a counter to my "declarations" of love—if they really were confessions in the beginning. Perhaps my dark mind had thought it funny or "romantic" to whisper sweet nothings through the gasps and moans that came from our sinful actions.

Yet now, after weeks of rejections and words of detestation, I have come to realize that it hurt to be denied, even if my words were said in jest.

"-arry. Harry!" The voice snaps me back to the present, forcing me to gaze into the bewildered eyes of a certain Weasley. "'Mione was asking you a question." Turning to her, I once again notice her scrutinizing gaze.

She nods once, as if satisfied that I got her attention. "Harry, I just want to know where you got this information from? Was it..." her voice began to quiver, "was it from your dreams?"

My brain wracks furiously for a good response. "The information I got was from a very... trustful source." Lame excuse as it was, the other two Gryffindors seemed to accept it and began chattering of the upcoming Quidditch game between us and the Slytherins...or at least Ron did while Hermione shook her head in amusement.

_Looks like keeping my secret will be harder than I thought._..

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Later that night, after a making sure everyone was safely asleep, I quietly apparate over to the Slytherin rooms, startling my favorite Malfoy.

"Potter, we did _not_ agree to meet today, you impatient prat!" he snarls, quickly casting a silencing charm over his bed.

"I missed you?" I joke in return, attempting to give him a kiss. He pushes me away, sniffing indignantly. "Who _wouldn't_ miss me? I'm too charming to ignore."

Smiling, my slender hand softly cradles his smooth cheek. It was soft and warm, probably because he had flushed at my comment?

_Or so I wish._

Suddenly, Draco gives me a feral grin, speeding my heart rate before he abruptly pulls me into a fierce kiss. We proceed to remove our articles of clothing with familiar ease and I crawl on top of him.

"About Ginny..." I start off, causing the blonde to hiss in frustration and yell "Destroy the mood, why don't you? Bloody Gryffindors..." as he attempts to force me towards him. I resist, placing a hand on his chest. "What are you going to do about her?" I insist.

"Does it matter?" he counters, "we're bedmates, not partners."

"But you don't like her!"

"And I don't like you."

_Touché._

"I still don't think you should lead her on like this."

"Like what?"

I growl, adjusting my elbows so that I pin the Slytherin down with my weight. "You flirt shamelessly with the girl, knowing that she'll only get flustered about it."

He snorts in return, giving me his trademark sneer. "I believe I just made Harry Potter jealous."

"Did not!"

"Did too."

"Did _not_!"

"Did _too._"

Silence prevailed after a while of childish bickering, and I settle for narrowing my eyes at the young Malfoy. When no response was issued, I sigh and roll off him, pouting slightly as I turn away. "Fine, since it is obvious that you prefer girls, I'll be on my way."

According to plan, I see the Slytherin pale noticeably, clasping a desperate hand onto my shoulder. "Wait! Who said you could leave?"

"You did; since you expressed such a strong desire for Ginny, I feel like I'm only blocking your path for true love," I mock, chancing a glance at Draco. He swallows, thinking of something to say without alerting me that he wanted my body.

"What does it matter to you?" he finally says hotly, "it seems more like I've got a jealous nancy boy in my bed."

I roll my eyes. "If you like Ginny, there is no way I would ever harm my best friend's sister by sleeping with her soon-to-be boyfriend." Turning around again, I close my eyes as if to apparate, and the Slytherin grabs me with both hands, holding me tightly.

"Fine. You've won," he hisses dejectedly, "I'll find some way to shake her off."

I smile and lean over the blonde, granting him a deep kiss and a lazy smile. "Sometimes I think I really _do_ like you."

He scoffs, stretching on the bed, obviously to lure my wandering eyes across his pale skin. "A fleeting fancy, I assume."

"No, I really do." I kiss his shoulder, allowing his hand to trace across my tan back.

"You like my body," he clarifies, climbing on top of me to kiss my forehead, "but then again, who can resist me?"

I crush him against my chest, allowing him to feel my beating heart as we leisurely kiss under the darkness of the closed curtains.

"_I love you, Draco."_

"_Don't call me that,"_ he insists. "_I hate you."_

Something within me plummets, and I continue to wonder if feelings have actually developed for the thin, arrogant boy in front of me. _"I mean it."_

"_So do I, now be quiet so we may snog in peace."_

Pushing my strange feelings aside, I continue my amorous (if one could call it that) affair with the Slytherin, lying tiredly beside him after it is over. I brush a drop of sweat from his trembling arms, kissing another off his chin.

As usual, he curls away from me like a serpent rejecting a dead carcass for food. I suppose I can understand him not wanting to see the face of his enemy after he's done shagging, but for some strange unbeknownst reason, it still hurt.

_Smarts quite a bit too._

"Malfoy?" I whisper, holding him to me. He utters a sleepy "Hm?" and his shoulders unconsciously tense at my affectionate action. "I love you."

"Sod off and go to bed," he murmurs tiredly. "We have a Quidditch game coming up, and I want to win the match fairly."

Not to be completely crestfallen at his rejection, a delighted feeling squirms through my insides at the thought of the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match.

...The first game since we've started our secret rendezvous. Of course, I certainly do not plan on allowing Malfoy to best me—as if he could. Thus, I follow Draco's instructions, apparating back to my own bed and snuggling under the Gryffindor covers. I have a match to win, and I refuse to be at a disadvantage.

_Are you ready, Draco?_

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"Score 50 – 30, Gryffindor in the lead!" the voice booms as the crowd roars with excitement and House pride. I had been avidly ignoring Potter throughout the game, only looking up once to smirk at him in the beginning. Now the silly git was somewhere above me, seeking the ever-elusive Snitch.

_This time I will be the victor._

"_You could be, if you stopped talking to yourself so much,"_ the amused voice broke through my thoughts, chuckling as I send a mental glare back. Quickly I fly up to the Gryffindor, expertly avoiding the Bludgers along the way. I lazily circle around him, a smug grin creeping onto my lips at his disconcerted face. "Nervous, Potter?" I sneer, keeping an extra eye out for the Snitch.

He says nothing, smirking at me as he suddenly dives down. With anxious excitement, I dive after him, determined the grab the Snitch before he did. However, he abruptly skids up and I, without his rare talent of flying (as much as I hate to admit it), barely escape smashing into the dirt. Luckily, I manage to swerve away, awkwardly dangling upside down as my broom flails in the air, causing the blasted Gryffindor section to laugh.

_Bloody Potter and his fake dives._

Grumbling to myself, I fly back up to the boy, determined for revenge.

"You almost hurt me there, Potter. Is that how you treat your bedmate?"

His whips his head towards me, eyes flashing in nervous fear. "Don't say that out loud; they might be casting a Sound charm on us!"

"Have they ever done that? You need to relax sometimes," I smirk, obviously agitating the brunette. "Care to come to my quarters tonight to celebrate the Slytherin win?"

"_Malfoy!_" he hisses again, leaning over to clasp his hand over my mouth. I dodge, his hand hitting my shoulder as I bless him with a quick, fierce kiss. His entire face glows crimson as I pull away, winking at the flustered Gryffindor before continuing my search.

"_That was a really dirty trick; what if someone saw us!"_ I hear Potter shout into my mind, his emotions frustrated and slightly scared.

"_I doubt they would look at us from that height and it wasn't like we were grouped together for very long,"_ I drawl, emphasizing my smugness. "_Besides, I want to give you a taste of what is to come after Slytherins win the match."_

There was a long silence before I heard him respond; the boy was up to something.

"_I'm going to get you for this."_

And Potter was off, speeding with his Firebolt over to the Quidditch stands. Following him closely, I see the speck of gold hovering near Granger's head, tempting us Seekers to grab it.

_There is no way I am letting him win._

By a stroke of luck, the Snitch zooms through the girl's messy locks, pausing in the center of the field—right where I happened to be. I raise my hand, almost crowing in glee as I imagine Harry's horrified face. My hand is right around the blasted Golden Snitch and I feel the tips of its feeble wings trembling against my palm-

**Crack!**

...I really should have seen that Bludger. Clutching my broom like my life depended on it—which it did—I once again spin away from the Snitch...just as bloody Potter grabs it.

"Harry has the Snitch! Harry has got the Snitch! The game has ended! Gryffindors win!"

The crowd of scarlet and gold cheers with an ingratiating din and I slowly tread back to the sullen Slytherins, wounded hand closely held to my body. I feel my Housemates' disappointed glares on my back, and bitterness rises up from my throat, prompting me to say something ill.

"You were lucky," I sneer at the celebrating Gryffindors. "I felt sorry for you and took the hit from the Bludger to let you win."

"Sodding Mordred," the Weasel, who happened to be closes to me, swears. "You lost because your flying is like Merman slime compared to Harry's, so don't make excuses, you arrogant git!"

"You're still defending your Seeker, the man who stole your love?" I mock back, almost drowning in pleasure when I see Weasley flinch.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

I lean forward, making sure the infuriating redhead sees my cocky grin. "You've been looking so pent up with sexual tension even the Hufflepuffs could tell." The Weasel sputters in rage, ranting and swearing in absolute denial—right where I wanted him.

_He's a fly caught in a web._

"Poor, poor Ronald Weasely; the boy who's best mate outclasses him in everything—even his shag."

"What did you say?" Ron chokes weakly, completely taken into my trap.

"I said shag. Also known as bang, or if you prefer, I suppose we can also call it bonking."

"Like I should be getting advice from a virgin, Malfoy!" he lashes out, thinking he's gotten the upper hand.

I laugh sadistically, watching the pathetic boy flinch at my cruel tone. "Do you _really_ think a Malfoy would lack expertise in anything?"

"But, Pansy said...she told me-" Ron starts rambling again before stopping as his face turns a ghostly shade of white. "Ginny!"

I raise an eyebrow. _The Weasel thinks I've been off with his sister?_ I say nothing, watching him torn between wanting to punch me and itching to find his sister. In the end, he bolts, calling out Ginny's name with his annoyingly loud lungs.

Smirking at my success, I saunter off to the showers, mood much lighter than before.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After seeing a frantic Ronald Weasley confront his sister, my eyes only widen when I hear him accuse Ginny of sleeping with Draco. Something about Malfoy "not being a virgin anymore."

_And who told him that?_ I think to myself, all hints pointing to the arrogant Slytherin himself. I exasperatedly shake my head, slowly slipping away from the crowd and into the changing rooms. There I wait, hidden in the shadows until I am sure that all the other Slytherins were gone.

_Good thing Draco is such a perfectionist._

The boy was always the last one out of the room, so intent was he on being clean and keeping every strand of hair in place. I sneak past the doors, stopping right behind the Slytherin to give him a scare...

"Give it up, Potter, your footsteps are louder than Hagrid's," Malfoy states nonchalantly, not even bothering to turn around as he pulls his black trousers over soft cotton boxers and trim, long legs. He had just gotten out of the shower; his hair was still damp, light drops of water dangling from the delicate strands. A small trickle had fallen to his neck, where it slowly dripped between his shoulder blades.

Without hesitation, I stoop over the boy's bent body and follow the miniature stream, capturing it with my tongue. His smooth skin tastes clean and crisp, especially since he had just washed up, and the lingering scent of soap was still vibrant on his pale back.

"Bloody hell, Potter!" he yelps, straightening in shock and regrettably forcing me to move away. "You're more rabid than a pack of Muggle bunnies!"

"And who was it that promised me certain favors during the game?" I counter, a single brow raised as I see Malfoy flush.

"That was _only_ if Slytherin won."

_So he wants to play it that way._

"Shouldn't I get a celebration for Gryffindors winning?" I murmur, holding his arm so he couldn't wear his shirt. My other hand creeps onto his stomach, sliding upwards towards his chest. I feel his back turn rigid at the contact and he lets out a hiss of breath.

"Can't you ever keep your hormones in check?" he manages to gasp, hands grasping weakly at the cubbies due to my ministrations. "Or your clumsy paws, for that matter?"

"Only if you promise me a celebration for the Gryffindors."

"Never!" he snarls, hissing again as both my arms encircle him. His shirt lays forgotten on the cold floor, his arms too intent on anchoring himself to reality through the cubbies.

"I also think you owe me an explanation for Ron's behavior?" I seductively whisper into his ear, feeling him tense for the second time. "He was shouting at Ginny to explain to him why you weren't a virgin anymore."

"I never said I wasn't," he snaps. "It's not my fault if the Weasel's too brash and assuming."

"That was a bad mistake, Draco. What if someone tries to find who you were shagging and catches us?"

"As if this isn't risky enough," he snorts, leaning back to point at my arms around his lean body. "Anyone could come in and we'd be found out-"

His next gasp borders a squeak and I chuckle, feeling the red warmth of his cheeks near my own. "I suppose we could continue this tonight; everyone will be in the common room for the victory party."

He turns around, narrowing his eyes as he folds his arms over his chest. "Why not come to my room? It isn't like _I'm_ the one who needs to expend certain urges."

I smile broadly, staring into his pouting face. "Then it wouldn't be a Gryffindor celebration meeting."

I suppress a laugh as Malfoy's face dons a look of horror and he begins sputtering in rage. "Who _ever_ gave you the idea that I agreed to celebrate your bloody wi-!"

I kiss him fiercely, drawing the surprised boy close and crushing him against my body. His arms attempt to push me away, but that only allowed my tongue entry into his unguarded mouth and he emits a low moan, declaring submission. Smiling into our deep kiss, one of my arms casually droops over his hips, forcing him even closer.

Draco's own arms are entwined over my neck, so lost was he in the haze of lust. His slender hand caresses my face while the other becomes entangled in my tousled hair and I break away from his soft lips, nibbling on his pale neck in return. Finding the sensitive hollow marring the pale flesh, Malfoy chokes back another sound of pleasure as I lick the delicate skin, blowing gently on the wet flesh.

His hands now grip my shoulders tightly enough to bruise and my mouth wanders down his neck, nibbling and nipping across the vast expanse of familiar flesh. Malfoy's eyes flutter shut and he begins to bite his lip to prevent his moans as I swirl my tongue over his lean stomach. Just as I reach the bottom of his navel, I back away, causing him to hiss harshly and his lust-filled eyes to fly open.

"Harry, wha-"

I place a single finger onto his protesting lips. "We'll finish this tonight, if you come."

Draco's face transforms into a mixture of longing and rage at my sneaky trick. "This was planned by you all along! You dirty little-"

I was halfway out the door by the time Draco finishes spluttering. Peeking my head from the door, I couldn't resist a last tease to leave the Slytherin shocked speechless.

"By the way, weren't you the one who told me not to call you by your first name? Bloody hypocrite."

Chuckling throughout the Gryffindor party, I tell my friends that I was unnaturally happy due to our win, and I congratulate the Beaters for preventing Malfoy from getting the Snitch. As Ron brings out the Butterbeers, I decline a drink and tell him that I would like to retire to bed.

"Harry, the party's just started!" he whines, glancing over at our loud Housemates. "Besides, with the ruckus going on, I doubt you'd be able to sleep."

"Don't worry, Ron, right now I think I can sleep through a Giant's rampage," I smile, faking a yawn as I head up to my room. Donning my sleeping garments and climbing into bed, I couldn't help but agree with Ron; the din could be heard quite clearly, although there was (thankfully) a bit of muffled silence.

A few minutes of sighing contentedly and rolling around the bed, a whizzing thought sent my nerves askew with adrenaline.

"_You better be somewhere private in the next ten minutes or your haven of Gryffindors will be crying bloody murder at the sight of me."_

Butterflies madly flying in my stomach, I impatiently wait an eternity (actually it was around fifteen minutes) before the familiar presence appears in my bed, having just apparated on top of me.

"What a nice surprise," I murmur. "Have you been practicing your place of apparition?"

Rolling his eyes, Draco answers, "No, and I'm still upset at what you did to me back in the changing rooms."

"Going to get back at me?"

"Eventually, but for now I'd like you to continue what you were doing before you left me so frustrated."

Grinning, I pull the smaller boy forward, feeling his entire weight settle on my body. "I love you, Malfoy," I whisper huskily, a grin etched across my features. He bares his teeth and snarls, moving up to look me in the eye.

"Stop joking around."

I smile bitterly, my expression wry with a tinge of humor in them. Casting a quick silence charm, I again wonder whether I am telling the truth or like he said, telling lies.

_When have I ever been unsure of my feelings?_

_Ever since you lost them, along with your innocence a few years ago,_ the back of my mind informs me, causing me to startle and blink. At Malfoy's questioning gaze, I smile again, eyes creasing in light laughter as I bring his lips down to meet mine.

"_I love you."_

"_I hate you!"_

Another burning sensation flares beneath my eyes even as I continue to trail kisses from the Malfoy's neck, a slender hand carelessly placed on the boy's petite shoulder. We had taken off our garments, a thin blanket thrown across our naked bodies as we continue to feel each other's touch.

During our passionate ordeal, I had ended up on top of the Slytherin, and now I lean over to him, giving him a small lick on the tip of his pointed nose. He in turn nuzzles my neck and I smile widely, delving once again into the warm cavern that was his mouth-

"Harry, take a look at what Dean and Seamus are doin-"

Curtains rip apart violently, and the silence spell fades as harsh light spills onto the dim bed, sparkling vividly against our sweat-soaked bodies. Our terrified faces look up, and we see none other than Ronald Weasley, Ginny Weasley, and Hermione Granger staring back at us speechless.

"Are girls even allowed in our room?" I stutter lamely before the Apocalypse slams me in the face, tossing me into the murky dungeons of Voldemort's worst nightmare.

Ginny bursts into tears, fleeing the room with her hands covering her flushed face. The two of us stare at her retreating back in another awkward silence, torn between feeling sorry for the girl and glad that one of them was gone.

"_At least that took care of my problem with Ginny,"_ Draco's voices dryly, lifting a pale hand to run through his mussed hair.

"How _could_ you? And how did he even get here?" Hermione bursts, looking incredibly upset and betrayed. Ron's face was quickly turning into the color of his hair, and I mentally braced myself for his wrath.

Before I could answer Hermione's question, Ron takes his stand. "Is this why you have been disappearing for weeks?" his voice was uncharacteristically quiet, a hint of lingering anger in his voice.

"Actually, months," I sullenly admit, watching his questioning gaze burn even more with fury.

"With _Draco Malfoy_ of all people!" he explodes, "honestly, Harry, as if I wasn't already completely _revolted_ by seeing you in bed with another bloke!"

"Then kindly close the curtains and walk away," Draco snaps, obviously offended and jumping at the chance to fight back.

"Now that I know the esteemed Draco Malfoy is an arse bandit, I wonder how his father is going to react to that?" Ron muses, his snarling face transforming into an evil one akin to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Draco immediately pales, and I place a hand protectively over his arm.

"That's something only Slytherins do, Ron; don't stoop to their level," I tell him harshly, challenging him with my eyes. The redhead raises a brow, lips twitching in sullen amusement.

"I don't think you'd mind, Harry, considering that you're currently banging one," his drawling voice begins.

"Are you jealous because _you're_ not the one in Potter's bed?" Draco interrupts, his sarcastic tone chilled with something akin to a freezing charm. Ron abruptly stiffens, face flushing again.

"_Jealous?_ I am bloody _pissed_ because I should have known that only a _Slytherin_ would go as far as to corrupt others on their preferences!"

"This is just...too much," Hermione stutters, turning around and fleeing, presumably to where Ginny had run off to.

"Look, Ron," I say impatiently, "this isn't what it seems-"

"Like seeing a naked Malfoy with your face attached to his lips is not what it seems."

"No! We're Halves!"

"You mean pretty little nancy boyfriends?" the dry remark came.

"Can't you be bloody serious? Draco and I are _Halves_; it is a curse which forces us to attain power through contact."

"And snogging Deatheaters senseless is supposed to gain power?"

Draco pushes me off of him, swiftly reaching down to grab our robes. Expertly tossing his on, he gives the infuriated Weasley a challenging glare.

"Weasel, if you used even _half_ your brain and looked up this curse like the Mudblood would do, you'd find most of your senseless questions answered," the Slytherin tosses his head and sniffs arrogantly. "Not to mention that we do _not_ attain our powers through joining; he wants my body, and I want his."

At Ron's green face, I snarl at the Slytherin. _"Malfoy, I wanted to keep him comfortable!"_

"_He's not a baby anymore, Potter, so stop mothering him; he needs to know the truth."_

"You two are _disgusting_!" he chokes out, turning around to leave. I grab his arm, pleading his name one last time and he shakes my hand away as if it was dirty. "Is he the one who told you? Is this why you told us not to go to Hogsmead?"

At my questioning look, Ron hisses, stepping away from the two of us. "I knew it. You just wanted me and Hermione out of the picture so you two shirtlifters could frolic in your disgusting poofter-ness and not be caught!"

My horrified gape was contrasted sharply by Malfoy's own shocked ones. "That's not what I-"

"Leave it, _Harry_," Draco says, intentionally stressing my name. "If the boy is this blinkered, then he deserves to die."

"_Malfoy!"_

Ron's face was now an angry purple, and he sneers into our faces. "Stop playing games, even the revolting Hufflepuffs are better than you two! I can't believe you'd choose _him_ over your Gryffindor mates, Harry; I am disappointed in you." The proud Gryffindor raises his head, slowly stalking from the room. After he leaves, a heavy silence hangs from his path, enveloping the room with its dark atmosphere.

"Why didn't you charm the bloody curtains?" Malfoy hisses into my ear, hastily buttoning his shirt.

"How was I supposed to know that anyone would barge in? I told them I was going to bed!" I exclaim, slipping my trousers on.

"If those three shagging Gryffindors don't keep their mouths shut, we're going to be the bane of all wizards," Draco continues to rant. "I _told_ you to apparate to _my_ rooms instead!"

"Malfoy, your room was full of sleeping Slytherins! There would have been a greater risk!"

"At least I charm my curtains!"

I fling my hands up in exasperation. "You know what, this is ridiculous. We got found with our white arses _shining_ for the whole bloody world to see and you're arguing over _curtains!_" I fumble over the buttons of my shirt, my ferocious anger causing my fingers to stumble. I fail to notice Malfoy still, pausing in his act of putting on his tie.

"What if he owls Lucius?" he whispers, so softly that I strain to hear him.

"He won't." I firmly promise, slipping a reassuring arm around the sullen Slytherin. "Ron is too Gryffindor to contact the enemy, and I doubt he'd be malicious enough to tell others."

Slowly shrugging my arm away, the Slytherin resumes knotting his tie, deft fingers skillfully placing the thin strips of fabric in specific places. "We shouldn't have done this. I don't even know why I agreed to this in the first place."

I look up sharply, placing both of my hands onto the boy's petite shoulders and shaking him gently. "Draco, you know we can't ignore our urges. Don't you remember how we'd apparate to each other unconsciously?"

"Don't call me by my name."

"_Draco._"

The Slytherin shoves me harshly away, causing me to fall back onto the bed. His steel blue-grey eyes are hardened and hurt, slicing me with their sharpened edges. He bites his lower lip, brows furrowing into an angry slant.

"I know I can't stop this; we've been through too much," he says softly. "Besides, I'll be joining Dumbledore soon, so the Weasel won't have the chance to call me a Deatheater." The boy shrugs on his robe, glancing back to me with intense silver orbs. "Sometimes I feel as though we're lovers."

"We're not?" my confused voice rings, shocking myself at my audacity. Malfoy raises an eyebrow, slowly shaking his head.

"How can we? We don't feel for each other; just our bodies."

Another lance of pain stabs me in the chest, and it was all I could do to laugh at Draco's comment. The blonde walks toward me, placing a cool hand on my warm cheek.

"Weasley will get over his homophobic nature and his feud with me," Malfoy says reassuringly, "after all, he can't escape the fact that his best friend is going to be secretly meeting with his worst enemy for a very long time."

"Not forever?" my breathless whisper comes as another shock, slipping through my mouth before my mind could process the words.

Draco chuckles, a bitter smile placed onto his handsome features. "Always the joker, aren't you Harry? I'll see you some other night."

The boy turns around and apparates from my presence, a small patch of cold still lingering on my cheek. I close my eyes, letting out a breath that I had not known I held. Blinking in confusion at the disastrous turn of events, my mind drags the heated words into my ears, refusing to let me dwell on anything but.

"_Not forever?"_

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Breakfast was a nasty surprise. Ron had refused to look me in the eye, and 'Mione was pretending to be too involved with her textbook to notice me. Ginny was nowhere in sight, presumably still sulking in her room.

"Ron," I whisper, prodding him on the shoulder. He grunts, shoving a mouthful of bacon into his mouth and pushing me away.

"I don't want to hear anymore excuses, Harry."

"I'm not making excuses! I'm just sorry for not telling you because I know of your distaste for people like me."

Ron chugs down his pumpkin juice, turning away from me. "People like you, Harry? Why did you turn out like this? You could have had any girl you wanted."

"I don't know, Ron. It just happened."

"Has there been anyone else?" the redhead questions and I look up, obviously startled. "I mean, have you been with anyone else? You don't have to tell me who."

"No, maybe I don't like either gender; I just want Draco."

"Don't say his name in my presence!" Ron says loudly, sharply turning around and hissing. We glance down meekly when other Gryffindors turn to stare, waiting until they were done gawking. "I don't like what you're doing, and I don't think I can adjust to this; it's me or him, Harry."

My shock dries up my mouth, causing my jaw to hang like a startled goldfish out of the water. "Are you giving me an ultimatum?"

The boy sticks his chin up stubbornly, defiance clear in his eyes. "Yes. Trust me, this is for your own good. Do you want to retain your best mate and your old life, or would you rather condemn yourself with that dirty Slytherin?"

Thick bile rises from within my constricted throat and the bubbling pot of anguish overwhelms my innards. "No friend of mine would ever force me to make that choice."

The crestfallen Gryffindor shakes his head, disappointment clearly showing through his features. "I never thought you'd choose the Dark ways over the path of the Light, Harry. Maybe you really _are_ the next Dark Lord."

Fury replaces the anguish, and I spit into the face of my once best mate. "Who are you to decide if a certain preference means I am automatically doomed to walk the path of Darkness?"

"But no one else does it! You're not _normal,_ Harry. Stop doing these things and I'll try to forget anything ever happened-"

"I was _never_ normal, Ron. Not since Voldemort-" I roll my eyes as Weasley flinches, "-cast an Unforgivable on me the day I was born!"

"So it has to be this way," the redhead states defeatedly.

"Yes."

He sighs, dropping his fork onto his forgotten meal. "This is where we part ways, Harry-" he looks over at my questioning look and smiles wryly, "don't worry, I won't tell anyone, though I _have_ discussed this with Ginny and 'Mione."

At the sound of her voice, Hermione looks up, her face haggard with sullen acceptance. "I won't tell either, Harry," her soft voice speaks, "and I'll make sure Ginny understands."

I give her and Ron my last smile as a friend, slipping away from their immobile bodies as I head slowly to Potions.

"_I chose you over my best friends and my past, Draco; you better appreciate this."_

"_Your past was never happy; you made a good decision,_" his steely voice purrs, and immediately I knew he was up to something. Unfortunately, no amount of coaxing or persuading would make him admit his plans. However, as I bicker with him throughout potions, my heart soars and my soul feels released; something I haven't felt since admission to Hogwarts. I gaze through the window, smiling at the cotton clouds and the vast sky that mirrored my feelings.

_Finally, I'm free._

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"He's gone a long way from first year, hasn't he, Lavender?" a high-pitched voice squeals in the Gryffindor common room.

"He's totally scrumptious! Not that he wasn't in first year..."

"Too bad he's infatuated with Pansy."

"I thought she was good with Blaise?"

"Parvati, dear, Draco Malfoy's the god of all bangs; he's got to be sleeping with _everyone's_ girlfriends!"

"Lavender!" the Patil twin giggles in shock over her friend's language. "Although I must agree..."

I roll my eyes, wishing I was elsewhere yet at the same time wanting to hear what the girls had to say about Draco.

"Didn't I hear he was a virgin though?" another girl questions meekly.

"Ron says that he's been sleeping with people and he heard it from Malfoy himself!"

"What I wouldn't give to be in his bed," Romilda Vane swoons. "Or Harry's, for that matter."

I smother a choke as I continue pretending to read my book. Blast that girl! From love potions to dirty tricks, she never gives up! After the awkward silence, I assume that the girls have figured out that I was still in the room and the topic goes back to the discussion of my bedmate.

"Whatever happened between you and Malfoy, Ginny? If he showed as much interest in me as he did you, I would have grabbed him tight and never let go!" Lavender giggles, latching onto Ginny. I couldn't help but notice that her face was drawn and tired as she warily glances over to me.

"It didn't work out," she whispers sullenly. "He fancies others."

Parvati shakes her head in pity at the gloomy redhead. "First Harry then Malfoy, you never seem to have much luck with boys, do you?"

More giggling ensues as they remind Patil that I was still around and I exasperatedly roll my eyes from behind my book.

_Girls are the strangest beings to walk the planet._

Hermione strolls into the room, arms full of books (obviously she was in the library) and she immediately gets snagged by the hoard of females.

"Hermione! We were just talking about Malfoy! Isn't he gorgeous?"

I hold my breath when I see Hermione's lips tighten into a frown. _Please, 'Mione, don't break this for me..._

"He's handsome, I suppose," she begins to drawl, throwing me a hurt glance, "but sometimes I think he borders 'beautiful'."

Another blonde gives my friend an affirmative nod. "He _is _somewhat camp, isn't he? I think he's more beautiful than most girls..."

"Right," Granger nods, and I begin to dread the direction she is heading. "I could almost imagine him fancying boys!"

Another outburst of giggles and gasps tumble down the cliff like a raging waterfall.

"That's absurd, Hermione! Malfoy with another boy? I couldn't even imagine him _snogging_ another bloke, let alone shag!" Now a corresponding group of 'Eew!'s drip from the females' mouths and I silently chuckle under my breath.

"Though he _does_ seem a bit feminine, doesn't he?" Ginny argues moodily. "Sometimes I wonder if he really does prefer boys over girls, since he's so cold to everyone."

_Hermione, Ginny...what are you doing?_

Vane laughs, her disgusting cackle pounding my eardrums relentlessly. "I bet if Malfoy ever fancied a boy, he'd _definitely_ be the bottom!"

This time my gagging could be heard across the room, sparking another explosion of loud ruckus and much laughter.

"Even if he has girly features, I think he'd top because of his aggressive attitude!"

"At least he'd definitely put up a fight," Lavender laughs.

"Well, I suppose it also depends on his partner," Hermione states knowingly.

"Oh, what if he shagged Harry?"

They giggle again, shouting teases and cat calls as I throw down my book in frustration and stalk to my room.

Why does Hermione keep mentioning Malfoy and other boys? Is she _trying_ to expose me? And why does Ginny support her? I knew they didn't approve of my decisions, but that doesn't mean they have to condone it in my presence! Are they doing it on purpose to spite me?

I let out an angry groan, apparating to Draco as soon as I close the curtains of my bed. Lucky me; he had just finished showering and was rubbing his soaked hair on the plush towel in the Slytherin bathroom.

I walk up to him and hug him tightly from behind, smiling at his startled yelp. "I love you so much, Draco, did you know that?"

"What in bloody hell are you doing, Potter? I thought you were supposed to tell me in advance before you come!"

"I love you." I nuzzle his neck, hands creeping over his chest as he struggles to free himself from my grasp.

"I hate you!" he snarls, waving the soggy towel around. "Let go of me!"

I comply, and he whirls around, face flushed with anger. "Don't come to me when you have problems, you sodding git! I'm not your lover, friend, or your blooming psychiatrist!"

Blinking at his accusing finger, which was pointed straight at my heart, I look up in confusion. "How did you know I had a problem?"

I can feel your frustration through your mind, you stupid prat," he snaps, continuing to rub his blond head with the towel. "Not to mention your face is tense and your jaw is twitching, as it always is when you have a problem."

Completely floored, my eyes stare at the Slytherin as if I was looking at him for the first time. "You notice these things?"

"Of course!" Malfoy explodes. "I haven't been spying on you for the past six years for nothing!" He quiets, muttering curses as he turns around to grab his robes.

_Malfoy notices me?_

Even though I spied on him often, it never occurred to me that he would be doing the same. In fact, I never thought he'd do such a good job of it that he would know the smallest things about me! I smile, stepping forward to throw my arms around him again and he places a warning hand on my shoulder.

"I also know you look hideous when screaming in pain," Draco says quickly, trying to offend me enough to back away. "That's the only reason I didn't want to curse you last year."

His desperate attempt failed miserably as I realize that Malfoy has never seen the "Hero of the Light" like everyone else; he sees Harry Potter, the bloody prat who's the rival to Draco Malfoy. Unlike everyone who sees their ideal, Draco sees both the good and bad of Harry.

_He sees **me.**_

I slap his hand away from my shoulder, gripping him into another ferocious embrace. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you!" Giving the surprised boy a long kiss, I lean back and grin widely.

The blonde stares at me with wide eyes, probably wondering if the Boy-Who-Lived had gone insane. "You disgust me, and your jokes are getting incredibly repetitive."

I laugh wildly, nipping his pale ears lightly. "You always know how to cheer me up, don't you?"

"_However_ am I doing that?"

"Just by being you, Draco."

"Don't call me that!" the boy blanches, "and if you hadn't noticed, I'm trying—as always—to find ways to extinguish your existence, or are you too much of a thick-headed Gryffindor to understand?"

I laugh again, hauling the Slytherin back to his room. Sometimes I wonder if I really care for Malfoy, and not just his body, but at times like these,

_I love him, I really do._

Now if he'd only feel the same way...

* * *

**AN: **20 beautiful pages! (I hope). This chapter was...I hope not too abrupt. There are a ton of events that will be happening, and this is the beginning. I need to cram everything in before Harry/Draco's Easter vacation, and sometimes it seems like I won't have enough time! So please, tell me whenever things seem too rushed and sudden, and I will try to solve it!

**British Dictionary (sort of):**

_Bloody, Shagging, Sodding, Blooming: _just phrases to emphasize things (normally negative things) such as "Bloody git!" or "that Blooming Gryffindor!"

_Shag, bonk, bang:_ to erm...get it on –blushes-

_Shirtlifter, ponce, nancy boy, arse bandit: _a gay man (there's a _lot_ of slang for this...)

_Blinkered:_ close-minded

_Camp:_ effeminate or somewhat gay

**Next Chapter: **So people have begun to find out, and they aren't taking it too well...However, what is that plan of Draco's? And will he ever believe Harry is serious in his confessions? Next chappie is all about Hogsmead and Harry's dilemma.

**Shoutouts:**

_Ambroisine: _Cuteness? Nyohoho, hope this chapter is just as cute? X.x;

_Orlandoroxmysox:_ Addicted? Yay! I mean...addictive things are bad! –coughs and looks around with shifty eyes-

_Maxie:_ I know exactly how you feel! Although I try to satisfy my inner fangirl with heated scenes and lots of angst...XD

_Thafemaleshacklebolt: _Aww, I feel so honored o.o Although I admit my writing skills recently got put to shame when I tried submitting this story to the HEX Files Archive...I need to make some major edits before it's even considered for archiving -.- Nevertheless! I love your review (semi-long reviews _always_ make me happy) and I hope I receive another one:D

_Mirokuluver's Friend:_ Haha, glad to know you like my story :) Hope this update didn't take too long :D

_SuperSquash_: I like your name. Really, it's so cute XD And what happens now? –points at chapter- _this_ happens, and a _lot_ more bwahahahaha! Is that what you meant? o.o;

_iNsAnE nO bAkA: _Explosive tempers, wee! I felt like the emotions weren't explosive enough in this chapter though :( If you feel the same way, then wait for next chapter! I'll make it up to you with a big temper tantrum and more! ;D

_SpeechlessQuestion: _I've raided the C2s, or at least all the Harry/Draco ones (bwahaha). I'll definitely scour through your favorites :) And yesh, I've been taking your advice and flooding the search engine with Harry/Draco-ness ;D Thanks for the wonderful tips!

_Pink-xXx-Kiss:_ Mm, Harry and Draco on top...who could resist? ;D and ooh! Your ficcie sounds interesting! –goes to read it- expect a review from me soon:3

_Devinnetjuh: _Gone for three weeks! Goodness, I hope you have tons of fun in France, as I've always wanted to visit that place...Hope you come back in time to catch this chapter:)

_Momochi Zabuza:_ ...You have no idea how tempted I am to use that idea o.o! And I totally would, but the events after this chapter makes Harry seem sort of...fickle if he were to suddenly fancy another. _However_, there will be a time for Draco to get jealous in the near future...bwahahaha ;)


	9. All's Well

**A/N:** Erk, I got two of my wisdom teeth pulled yesterday...not very fun, I guarantee you x.X; It looks like someone punched me! Argh, to be honest, this chapter was a bit difficult to write! I suppose it is because it is not as angsty as my normal repertoire, but I hope it is still enjoyable!

**PS:** The song is by Placebo, called "My Sweet Prince."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco dwell behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

**

* * *

**

Masquerade – All's Well...

* * *

Never thought you'd make me perspire.  
Never thought I'd do you the same.  
Never thought I'd fill with desire.  
Never thought I'd feel so ashamed.

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Students buzz around the hallways, murmuring excitedly as they gather in groups; everyone was preparing for Hogsmead. Bathing in the dewy morning mist, I stare out the window, calmly watching the Weasel and his precious Mudblood trod sullenly together. The redhead had a stubborn look set upon his features, while Granger was obstinately holding her head high; they were obviously still quite stung from their discovery of my relationship with Harry—if one could call it that.

"_They're going to ignore your warning, Potter."_

"_I've tried talking to them before, but they won't listen to me!"_ Harry answers irritably; a feeling of urgency resonating strong within his mind. I could almost imagine the panicky brunette pacing around his room, running a slender hand through strands of messy hair as he tries to figure out a plan to stop the eventual kidnapping of his two friends.

"_I suggest you leave them; they aren't worth saving."_

"_I can't, Malfoy, they've been through so much with me,"_ the boy replies grimly. "_Perhaps we should follow them to Hogsmead-"_

"_I _refuse _to guard two blinkered prats, Potter," _I spit ferociously. _"As twisted as our relationship may be, we deserve no mockery from jesters who refuse to understand our plight."_

I sense Harry grow uneasy and defensive, ready to argue for his friends. _"Besides, I doubt Ron would forgive you if he saw the two of us together, much less _following_ them around."_

The Gryffindor sighs deeply and gives in; his mind cloudy and hazed from his frustration. _"I just wish there was something I could do!"_

I curl my lips into a cold sneer, unable to avoid the nasty jibe that Potter had set himself up for. _"Is the Boy-Who-Lived trying to be a bloody hero again? Merlin's rotten robes, I never imagined the day that the Golden Boy actually enjoys molding himself into the public's ideal."_

"_Sod off!"_ the boy immediately snarls, anger flaring as my taunt stabs mercilessly at his weakness. _"If you don't want to protect them with me, then I'll do it myself!"_

I smugly agree with him, further fueling his rage at my hasty affirmation before I cut the link between us. There was a plan I had concocted a few days ago; one which involved cornering the blooming Weasel and attempting to talk reasonably. Unfortunately, with the way the redhead avoids my presence, I had long given up hope on any decent chatter.

I sneak away to wander the shops of Hogsmead alone, my hungry gaze lingering over the many beautiful trinkets that the small town offered. Pale fingers brush across solid metal, relishing the coolness of a shining pendant. It was a simple silver chain, elegantly crafted with a plain circular charm in the middle. Within the elegant circle, a tiny emerald was placed in the center; a small, smoldering object that sparkled wildly against its surroundings.

Watching the emerald reminded me of Harry. No, it was not because of his eyes—I've heard enough about lovers buying trinkets with the color of their partner's eyes to sicken me for life.The emerald reminds me of a lonely boy, forced to involve himself in problems greater than he could imagine. It reminds me of a boy who glows and distinguishes himself repeatedly from his peers through his unique wildness and brilliant magic.

Trembling hands drop the beautiful chain back onto the counter; a resounding '_Clank!'_ forces its way through my ears and I shove my hand deep into the pockets of my robe as though it was dirty.

_I hate it._

_I hate **you**!_

Harry Potter, the bloody fool who tempts me with his torturous taunts; the impossible imbecile who had lost his mind to the Darkness, yet retains his soul to the Light. Sometimes I feel as if I know the boy; after all, we've been through too much together—Bloody hell, I even share his bed! Other times, it seems as though he is beyond my reach, hidden behind a gaping crevice which I could never pass.

"_I love you."_

"_When did you start that blooming habit, Potter?" I muttered to the gasping Gryffindor. "It irritates me."_

_He smiled at me with his ingratiating grin, easily laughing off his outrageous confession. "It just seems like the right time to say it." _

"_Well, I hate you!" I snapped back, wishing with all my might that he would just stop making me miserable. "I hate you so much, I wish we had never been forced into this situation!"_

But did I really hate him?

_Of course I did!_

He constantly acts like he really cares, even though our meetings were based on solely lust for the other's body. His painful words are worse than sullen silence because it gives me an excitement that I've always hated.

_**Hope.**_

How I wish that word could be banned from all dictionaries, encyclopedias, and other novels! 'Hope' is something that crushes a person viciously; a curse which forced a boy to throw away his childhood before his time.

"_Father, would you grant me the wish of..." the little boy trailed off, wide blue-grey eyes glancing nervously at the window._

"_What is it, Draco?" Lucius replied, looking up from his Ministry documents. "Finish what you were saying."_

"_Could I visit the gardens today? Pansy told me that beautiful roses bloomed around this time!"_

_The boy's father raised a brow, setting down the papers and leaning over his son. "Do you really want to go?"_

_The young blonde nodded excitedly, holding his breath. Lucius had always refused immediately; surely he was testing Draco's will! Hope blossomed in his chest as wonderfully as the plants that Parkinson had spoke of, glimmering brightly with morning dew._

"_Performing such useless duties will only deter you from your goal. I will see that those repulsive weeds are destroyed so you will never have to be tempted again," the man calmly replied, ignoring his son's betrayed look. "I thank you for informing me of this problem, Draco. Please remember to concentrate on your duties and nothing else from now on."_

I close my eyes, nails digging painfully into my pitiful flesh. It was that time, because of the thing known as hope, that I had finally realized what a tool was.

**What a tool I was meant to become.**

But what about now? Potter had given me a path; I would go to Dumbledore for asylum, hiding from the world until peace came. He had shown me the Light, pushing past my hatred and acquainting himself with my feelings and habits.

He had given me 'Hope.'

...More hope than I could ever indulge in. His constant light remarks of proclaiming affection for me was also a form of that disgusting word; it was something I did not deserve. Hearing the repugnant words from his smiling lips brought feelings of amazement and strange growing sensations within my abdomen.

...But his lying laughter and traitorous eyes repeatedly crush the ball of emotions within me, the ball growing spikes and dashing wounds within my internals. It made me hate him more for not allowing me to despise him properly.

I tightly squeeze my eyes shut, not even allowing the crisp morning light to reach my mind. _Never believe what he says; he'll toss you aside for another one he lusts for after he is done with you! Just like how you will toss him awa-no! You **must** toss him away! You-_

"Oof!" I crash mercilessly into another body, staggering backwards a few kilometers (or what seemed like it) as the other person falls unceremoniously onto his behind.

"Malfoy?" the familiar redhead blinks owlishly at me, rubbing his head as his mouth turns down into a deep scowl. "Trying to attack me in public?"

"Sod off, Weasley," I hear myself say carelessly. "Where is that Mudblood of yours? Did she disappear after you broke off with Potter?"

The redhead stands up quickly, fists clenched at his sides. "I don't want to hear of him from you, Malfoy. We just saw that _boyfriend_ of yours in the book shop and Hermione stayed behind to talk to him."

"First of all, he is not my boyfriend. Secondly, it appears that I was right; the Mudblood left the Weasel for his best mate."

"He is no mate of mine," Ron heatedly spits, taking a threatening step towards me. It seemed as though he wanted a fight in the middle of Hogsmead, which I was all too ready for; it would be a good way for me to relieve some pent-up tension.

Before we could do anything, the earth abruptly shakes and a building collapses behind me. Screams come from all directions and everyone takes off running in the next blink of an eye. It was as though the world fell apart; shrieking women running with children stumbling on their feet and crying men wailing pitifully on the corners of the streets. I notice a still body on the floor, trampled beyond recognition.

**The Dark Mark rose brazenly into the sky.**

I quickly search the area for the quickest and safest means of escape; the Weasel had his glazed eyes wide open, slack mouth ajar as he stared at the symbol of Darkness. Behind him came a Deatheater, gripping his wand tightly after casting an Unforgivable on an innocent victim. Ron looks down to stare at the charred corpse, his own body too frozen to move.

I whip out my own wand, discretely casting a quick '_Stupefy!'_ on the unsuspecting Deatheater before grabbing the boy's arm, pulling him to the side. The Gryffindor collapses beside me, still too shocked to move.

"Run, you insolent git!" I scream at the boy, pulling roughly on his arm. His terrified eyes stare at me without acknowledgement as his jelly legs follow my lead. I push him into a darkened alley just as a Deatheater catches a glimpse of the Gryffindor's trademark hair.

"Blast your family and their red hair!" I hiss at the shivering Weasel, covering us both with a ragged, ripped potato sack. The harsh crunch of the dirty gravel beneath the enemy's feet seems unearthly loud as it nears our fatal destination. I see the tips of fine leather as the presence stops directly in front of us, searching the area for his trapped prey.

I grasp Weasley's hand tightly, wincing at his cold, clammy texture as I rapidly think of a plan to disable the man in front of me.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The Deatheater curses as the spell lifts him high into the air, his hands flailing for support as I grab Ron and roll us underneath the man's swinging feet. The enemy utters a '_Finite Incantum_!' and manages to block my following stunning spell.

_Blast! I wasn't counting on him to do that so quickly_.

The hooded figure walks slowly towards me, a sickly hand reaching towards me and the shocked boy. "Draco Malfoy, Lucius's son, bring me the blood-traitor and the Lord shall reward us both," he purrs, "unless you mean to betray our side? I am sure your father would not be pleased."

I curse lightly under my breath, despising the predicament I had forced myself upon. Hate him as I might, I could not hand over the Weasel, but if I managed to escape, my father would hear of my betrayal. Furthermore, I doubt I would be able to obliviate the man, leaving one last option left.

_The thing I was bred to perform as a tool._

I stand up, leaving the redhead lying on the floor in a blubbering heap and walking calmly towards the Deatheater. He steps back uncertainly, retracting his untouched hand. "You will not kill me, Draco," he hisses, "you will not be able to."

I raise an eyebrow at him, my calm gaze reflecting sparkles of gold. "Oh? You forget, Mr. Goyle, that death has been seared into my soul ever since I my birth; I was made for it."

Gregory's father, recognizing a Malfoy's cold exterior and unrelentless talent for manipulation before his kill, seizes his wand, shouting "You are a traitor to our cause! _Avada Kedavra!_"

"_Draco!"_

Perhaps it was my inexperience in battle, or stupidity in the heat of the moment, but I had shouted '_Protego!'_ , a useless shielding spell that did not affect the killing curse in the slightest. Realizing my mistake, I could do nothing but stare helplessly at the oncoming green light, nearly forgetting the shielding charm had been uttered by the voice in my mind at the same time I had spoken it...

The blue shield flashes over my body, absorbing the shock of the curse and bouncing it back. The Deatheater barely had any time to dodge his own spell, shouting in surprise and rage. As he fell to the ground, I scream "_Expelliarmus!"_ and his wand bounces harmlessly to my feet. The enemy hunches over, hands trembling from the shock of his failed assassination.

"H-How? There is nothing that could block an Unforgivable, let alone reflect it!" he cries pitifully. He looks into my cold, hard eyes and I can feel my features growing distorted, screaming to break free from my illusion. "You-You're a Half," he whispers, dull, dark eyes searching within my gold-grey ones. "Could it be...you and that Potter brat?"

"Perhaps, but that should be the last of your worries. _Avada Kedavra!_"

The man gives a shrieking wail, holding his arms over his face in a last line of defense before slumping onto the floor, dead and warmth draining from his slack face. I sigh, walking back to Weasley. As I approach him, the boy seems to snap out of his trance, stumbling back against a wall. "You-You killed him!" he accuses, pointing at me with a shaking hand.

"Should I have let him take you?" I snap. "Or would you have rather done the honors instead of lying on the ground like a cowardly fool?"

"But you _killed _him!" the Weasel continues to rant, ignoring my ridicules.

"It is nothing I have not done before. Honestly, do you really think a Deatheater's son would still be a bloody virgin with clean hands at the age of seventeen?"

"You saved me," the oblivious continues to whisper. "You cast an Unforgivable on a Deatheater!"

"So I see," I reply dryly. "If you had listened to Potter and stayed in Hogwarts like a good little Weasel then you would not have had to witness this."

"What?"

Shaking my head at Ron's blank look, probably still frightened with shock (or perhaps he's just a thick-headed Gryffindor), I explain, "The Deatheaters wanted to kidnap you to hurt Harry, and I could not allow that, so I saved you."

"You betrayed your own father for Harry?"

I roll my eyes. "I do not like my father, nor do I care for Potter. I do what I wish, and I choose whichever side I believe is right."

"And you saved me."

"_Yes_, Weasley, I believe we went over that."

To my utter shock and irritation, the boy begins to laugh, his hand clutching his mussed red hair. His mouth turns into a forced grin and he clutches his stomach in pain. "Nice joke, Malfoy. Is this all a trick to get me to accept Harry?"

"_What?_" I could not believe the _nerve_ of the bloody git!

"I bet you planned this!" the redhead continues to shout. "You and Harry wanted me to believe you two were serious about each other, so you pulled some strings to launch a Deatheater attack! You made a Deatheater chase me down, had him admit you're a Half, then killed him so you could have me licking your shoes in gratitude!"

"You're so easy to see through, Malfoy. I bet you even convinced Harry into this! It isn't going to work on me, and when I-"

My unrestrained fist flies towards the boy, hooking him in the left jaw and he collapses in agony on the dirt floor. My eyes blaze with a golden sheen and I stand with my shoulders trembling in noticeably suppressed rage by the despicable Weasel.

"You are the _daftest_ imbecile I have ever seen," I spit through gritted teeth. "How jealous can you be?" The boy snaps his head up at me, staring with wide eyes that only confirmed my accusations. "That's right, you're jealous that Potter's not spending as much time with you anymore, you're jealous that Granger is moping over Potter's recent preference! And above all..." I stare down at the boy, my contempt for him clear at my raised brow. "You're scared that I'll take him away from you."

"What are you talking about?" Ron denies. "I'm disgusted that _you_ led Harry to your bed! I bet you were the one who seduced him into your trousers-"

"Grow up, Weasley," I say harshly, "stop being an immature prat and learn that everyone has their own paths. Potter isn't the little Boy-Who-Lived that everyone wants him to be; he is his own person, and why he cares for blinkered people such as you is beyond my understanding."

"But surely you must have planned this-"

"Bloody wake up, Ron!" I shout, ignoring the fact that I had called the redhead by his name. "I'm going to Dumbledore to seek asylum during Easter vacation, and I will be a part of Harry's life whether you like it or not!"

"Why should I believe you?" the Weasel demands. "You're a Deatheater's son!"

"For the love of Salazar!" I shriek. "I am _not_ Lucius! And this is not about me; it is about Harry Potter, the friend you rejected for not being like everyone else! If it weren't for Harry, I would not have given you a second thought back in the battle."

"But-"

I growl, lifting the boy by the collar of his robes and lifting the illusion from my body. He whimpers in fear as I look down upon him cruelly. "Despite everything, Harry still cares for you and wants you as his friend. You, on the other hand, are being a blinkered, insensitive, jealous, sodding prat who leaves at the first sign of abnormality. You _will_ grow up and apologize to Harry."

The boy grows silent, looking away from my furious face. "You really care for him," he whispers sullenly. I drop him in shock, pulling my illusion back on and turning away from his crumpled form. "I care for his body, nothing more."

Weasley staggers up, giving me a resigned grin. "Whatever you say, Malfoy, but you're right. I guess I was overreacting and I will make up with Harry."

"I'm _always_ right."

Ron chuckles, brushing the dirt from his knees. "Would you like a truce? I'll bear with you for the sake of Harry."

I scrutinize the boy, finding only sincerity and deep apology. "Very well, I accept your truce, Weasel—er, Weasley," at his glare, I smile, clasping his raised hand. "Old habits die hard."

"Right, and if either of you even _try_ to flirt with me-"

"That's too disturbing to even think about, Weasley."

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Me and the dragon can chase all the pain away.  
So before I end my day, remember..  
My sweet prince, you are the one  
My sweet prince  
you are the one

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I dash across the ruined buildings, dragging Hermione behind me as we struggle to find a hiding place. Deatheaters were raising havoc in every corner, cackling as they tortured the inhabitants. I hex a few out of my way, trying to find the familiar pale-blonde head.

_I felt he was in danger earlier...is he all right?_

The sudden wave of nauseating sickness alarmed me as I was running the streets with 'Mione. There was a sudden vision of a Deatheater looming over Draco, ready to utter a lethal curse. Without thinking, I shouted _'Protego!'_ in my mind and the vision vanished. Now I am left stunned and wild in fear of the blonde's safety.

"Harry, where are we going?" Granger cries from behind me, following in vain to keep up.

"I don't know!" I shout back, ignoring her startled "_What?_" as I attempt to get in contact with my bedmate.

"_Draco, where are you?" _I mentally cry, wishing to all higher wizards that the boy will answer. I knew he couldn't die without me, but I have no intention of seeing the Malfoy hurt or worse—comatose like I had been.

After a moment of excruciating silence, the heavenly voice drifts back to me, sarcastic, grumpy and cold—just how I like it. _"Why ask when you can just apparate here, you stupid Gryffindor? I just saved your precious Weasel; we're in the alley between the small trinkets station and the broom shop."_

"_I've got Hermione and I don't know if I can apparate with her,_" I explain._ "And are you hurt? I got the strangest vision just a little while ago..."_

"_We'll talk when you arrive; Weasley's giving me strange looks," _the voice snaps, cutting off our link. I smile, the pressure in my heart and the concerned haze over my eyes lifting. "I know where Ron is, Hermione, let's go meet him."

When I finally arrive, I see Draco and Ron leaning against the wall, both apparently in a deep discussion.

"Potter, we were just talking about you," Malfoy says as he turns his head over to meet my gaze. "And...Granger, glad to see you are well."

'Mione's eyes were wide and shocked as she looks back and forth from Ron and Draco. "I-you...I'm surprised you aren't at each other's throats," she finally concludes.

"That's right; we formed a truce," Ron announces. "Malfoy gave me a good talking to and knocked me back to my senses." He gazes at me before looking back towards a heap of clothing. "He saved me," the redhead whispers softly. "And I owe him a life-debt."

"That's a huge obligation, Ron!" Hermione cries. "Especially to a _Malfoy_!"

"But I trust him," Weasley declares, shocking us further, "and as I recall, you owe Malfoy a life-debt when he saved you in potions a few months ago."

Looking at Hermione's gaping mouth and then staring at the smug Slytherin, I realize that Draco had told Ron about the incident and I begin to wonder what else the boy had told my best mate.

"Harry," Ron says, snatching me from my thoughts. "I owe you an apology. I am deeply sorry for reacting like such a prat when I found out about you and Draco. I'm sorry for being prejudiced against who you are, and who you have become. Although I can't say I like this Slytherin git-" he glances over at Draco, who rolls his eyes and pouts in return, "I will accept him for your sake."

I smile, whispering a mental thanks to Malfoy as I look at Ron. "Thank _you_, Ron, for finally understanding. You have no idea how much I've been stressi-"

"Is that a dead body!" Hermione suddenly shrieks, holding a hand over her horrified mouth.

"I killed him because he was trying to take Weasley," Draco says flatly, nudging the body with his shoe.

"He looks like he had been hit with the killing curse—Malfoy! Using an Unforgivable could put you in Azkaban for life!"

"So are you implying that I should have left Ron for the Deatheater instead of protecting him?" Draco challenges, a brow lifting at Hermione's objection.

"Well, no, but-"

"'Mione, _please_," I plead to her and she closes her mouth, looking away in defeat. We protect each other's backs for a few more minutes, quietly planning on our escape. Finally, we manage to make it back to Hogwarts by floo and we struggle up, shaking the ashes from our dirty robes.

"So...now what?" Ron questions, staring at the three of us for help.

"I suppose we go alert the Headmaster," Hermione declares.

"No need, Ms. Granger. The Headmaster has already been informed and he will deal with this appropriately." Professor McGonagall appears from behind, looking down on us in regal concern. "I would appreciate it if you all went back to your rooms until further notice."

Casting glances at each other, we bid our separate ways (or at least Draco did) and we walk back to our respective portraits. "I'm going to check up on Malfoy, don't wait up for me," I tell my two friends as we reach the common room. "We have matters to discuss."

"Oh Merlin, don't tell me you're going to be doing what I think you're up to," Weasley groans, closing his eyes. "Why did I form a truce with him again?"

I chuckle at Ron, patting him fondly on the back. "Don't worry, Ron, I'll spare your eyes and frolic in _his _room." Ron makes another scandalized cry and I laugh loudly.

"I don't think it is such a good idea; Slytherins will be littered all over the dungeons," 'Mione reasons. "Besides, do you even know the password?"

I smirk, my mouth lifting into a curl similar to Malfoy's. "Who says I need to walk there?"

"_Malfoy, you alone?"_

At his affirmative answer, I smile and wave to my friends. "I'll see you soon!" Closing my eyes, I apparate, chuckling as I distantly hear Ron's startled squawk and Hermione's surprised gasp. I land ungracefully in Draco's lap, rolling over to lie next to him in his familiar bed.

"I'm guessing you were showing off to Weasley and Granger," the Slytherin says dryly, propping a pillow on the wall before leaning on it. "Although I—mmph!"

I interrupt the blonde with a hard kiss, pushing him against the bedpost with my frantic hands. We break off gasping, and I lean forward for another kiss, but he pushes me away.

"Mordred's shoes, I thought you wanted to discuss things, not sh-_shag_ as soon as you arrive!" Draco still had problems admitting that he and I were bedding each other, so I could only smile as I see him adorably attempt to say the rancid words.

"I was worried about you," I whisper, pecking his soft lips again, "and I received a vision where you had almost been disabled by a Deatheater."

"Gregory's father tried to kidnap Ron," Malfoy turns to me, a sullen look in his eyes. "He discovered my alliance to you, as well as our Half relations, so I was forced to dispatch him."

"But I saw him almost dispatch _you_!" I argue. "I even screamed into your mind!" I wrap my arms around the thin boy and he subconsciously leans into my touch.

"Perhaps it is another one of our Half powers," he muses. "I heard your voice shouting '_Protego!_' with me, and it managed to reflect that Deatheater's Avada Kedavra."

I look at him sharply. "What? But Unforgivables can't be blocked my mere shields!"

"Somehow, with our combined Half powers, we can," Draco says firmly. "Everything you saw was real, Potter. It appears that we can see through each other's eyes and combine our powers."

A sudden realization dawns upon me.

**_Dark encounters light, either cancelling existence or blending into dusk; destroying prophecies or completing fate._**

"Draco! Do you think that the 'blending into dusk' part of the prophecy means that we can combine our powers to defeat Voldemort?"

"Perhaps," Malfoy shrugs, "and what did I tell you about calling my name?"

"I love you!" I cry, wrapping the Slytherin in another hug. He pushes me away. "Stop saying such irresponsible words!"

I smile on his neck, feeling him shiver at my breath. "What if I really mean it?"

"A likely story!" snorts the other boy, running his slender fingers through my messy hair. "And besides, I hate you, so it wouldn't matter."

I pull Malfoy onto my lap, his startled gasp sending my excited blood rushing south. "I think we should celebrate your bravery for defending my best mate," I murmur seductively into his ear, giving it a small nibble for good measure. He gasps again, this time in pleasure and he places a hand on my arm, stopping me from reaching into his robe.

"I think we should practice our powers," he announces, sighing exasperatedly at my pathetic pout. "Look Potter, this curse of ours has given us some extraordinary talents, and I want to exploit them all."

I wrap my arms around the petite boy, holding him close to me. "Fine," I sigh dejectedly, "you're such a typical ambitious Slytherin."

He smiles smugly against me before pulling away. "Let's meet at the Room of Requirements; I'll go first and tell you when you can apparate to me."

I close my eyes, willing myself to the boy of thoughts. As I step into the room, I gaze in wonder at the place Malfoy had taken me to: a starry night sky with an endless field of unbounded grass swaying gently to the slight breeze. There were a few green trees scattered across the brilliant backdrop, waving their cheerful hands merrily at the chilling wind. The bright moon hung round and full, dimming the brightness of the glittering stars with its own brilliance.

"Like what you see, Potter?" Draco says smugly, folding his arms over his chest. "I asked the room for someplace wide and peaceful, ready to calm our minds and help us relax."

"It's-It's beautiful," I whisper in wonder, knowing that I was inflating the Malfoy's already huge ego. "Not as beautiful as you though."

He laughs, running his hand through his beautiful hair. "I know."

Walking towards him, I grab his shoulders, crushing the boy's body to mine. "So how are we supposed to practice?" Draco, much to my aggravation, slyly pushes me away and shakes his tempting finger at me. "Calm, boy, I want to practice spells."

He points at a tree, grimly murmuring '_Incendio!'_ and watching the tree light brightly with fire. It burns slowly, wilting the plant to ashes before it somehow miraculously regenerates. "I picked flame-retardant Maples for this purpose," Draco says in satisfaction. "Most wizards aren't able to even smoke these things, let alone burn it to a crisp." He puts a slender finger to his pointed chin, eyes tilting towards the stars. "Actually, I was never able to burn these plants either, until now. Let me see what you can do."

I follow his lead, muttering the burning spell and watching it flame away at the same speed of Draco's magic. It never ceased to surprise me that the Room of Requirements could portray such an endless dreamscape, let alone regenerating trees. "Same speed as mine; predictable," Malfoy muses, "now, let us try the spell together!"

He grabs my hand, startling me from my stupor. "On the count of three, _Incendio!_"

The tree explodes, and brilliant blue flame—the most extreme type of heat—viciously eats at the plant, mercilessly crumbling it beyond ashes even before a single fragment of wood could hit our bodies.

Draco's eyes were alit with child-like excitement, an innocent grin spilling over his normally hard features. "This is brilliant! Look at what we did! I bet no wizard in history has ever done _that_ to a flame-retardant Maple!"

His hair reflects the moon, bright eyes brightening with triumphant cheer at his accomplishments, and at that moment, I had never found him so beautiful. He turns to me, vulnerable face overflowing with emotions that the Slytherin had always suppressed. "Isn't this wonderful, Potter?"

I stare into his laughing blue-grey eyes, lost in his aura of purity and childish delight. "Yes, Draco," I whisper. "It is."

"I can't believe magic could be so powerful; so absolutely _exciting_!" the boy continues to chirp, now bouncing with glee. "Let's try another spell, Potter. Ooh! What about trying it in our minds, like how we blocked the killing spell? Would it be as powerful as saying it aloud with you? Or maybe I was holding onto your hand that time. What if we-"

"Draco, love, you're rambling," I absently grab a hold of his arm, calming the delirious boy. The crumbling look on his face immediately made me realize what I had called him, and he roughly shoves off my hand, his cold mask back onto his face.

"Don't call me by my name, or even worse..._that._" Malfoy shivers, his entire body stiffening. "I'm not your pathetic little lover, Potter, go find Granger if you want one."

"Malfoy-" the blonde raises his hand, warning me not to speak. I sigh, closing my mouth and biting my lip in regret. _Why did that spill from my mouth? He always thinks I'm lying anyway, so why? Why push his boundaries?_

"-are you listening?" the Slytherin's voice nags at me. "I want to try lifting this boulder with only our minds chanting the spell—Don't doze off on me Potter, this is for your benefit too."

I smile softly, looking at the impatient Slytherin with a small grin. "Sure, whatever you say, Malfoy."

We bid our farewells several hours later, near the coming of dawn. As I sneak back into my rooms, I begin to wonder over our accomplishments. Of course, our powers are multiplied almost ten-fold when we hex something together, and the effect is the same in our minds. However, curiously enough, we are unable to perform Wandless magic alone, but if we both use our minds to connect with each other, the response was mind-blowing.

I couldn't believe the ease at which we lifted the enormous boulder with our minds, as compared to me trying to lift the stubborn block of stone alone with my wand. _Not only were our powers magnified after full Half maturity, but together it is almost unstoppable._

I drift off into sleep, still contemplating the accomplishments we had achieved within the beautiful scenery, surrounded by innocent laughter and wide, blue-grey eyes...

"_Potter, Potter!"_ Draco's voice whines to me across the Potions classroom, snapping me from my bored reverie. _"I want to experiment with something; try to look through my eyes from where you're sitting."_

"_Malfoy, Snape will kill me if he sees me dilly-dallying!"_

A frustrated huff of indignation breezes through my brain and I chuckle, causing Ron, my current potions partner, to indulge me with a strange look. I point towards the glaring Slyhterin, whispering to the redhead, "Draco's being a silly prat."

"Isn't he always?" Weasley rolls his eyes before snapping back at me. "Wait! Are you saying that you can communicate with Malfoy through your mind?"

I smile, glancing once more at the offended Slytherin who was currently mouthing curses at me. "There's a _lot_ more we can do that you don't know about, Ron. I'll tell you about them sometime." Ron mumbles something along the lines of "well, you better...but if it's anything disgusting, then count me out!" I laugh, looking back at the infuriated Malfoy.

"_Why don't you come look through –my- eyes? Snape doesn't care what you do,"_ I mouth back to the Slytherin, and he nods reluctantly at my compromise.

"_I do hope I don't catch any of your Gryffindor naivety in that empty mind of yours."_

I blink suddenly, feeling another presence in my mind. It was similar to possession, but the other being was familiar and comforting, successfully repressing my desire to push it out with Occlumency (not that I was very good at it anyway).

"_Salazar's wand, Potter," _the Slytherin remarked, his voice much louder and intimate than normal, _"you're doing the potion completely wrong, and tell Weasley to stop grinding those toad warts; they'll be nothing but owl feed by the time he's done with them."_

"Ron, Draco says that you're grinding the toad warts too much," I whisper to Ron, noticing his startled look. "He's looking through my eyes right now."

"The bloody git can _do_ that?" Weasley says, his eyes widening to Bludgers. "Mordred, what _else _can he do?"

"I thought we had a truce, Weasel," I hear my lips moving, complete with Draco's familiar voice. "And don't call me by my name, Potter, you'll taint it with your disgusting voice."

Ron shrieks in alarm, throwing the disgusting lumps of warts extravagantly into the air. He looks back at Draco's body, which was slumped over as if he were asleep.

"_So it seems like I can look through your vision while staying in my own body, but I can also share your mind with you, speaking through your mouth and the like," _Malfoy's clear voice rings through my mind. _"I wonder if I can move your body as well."_

He struggles to raise my arm, and I suppress him. _"I can also block you from doing those things,"_ I smile inwardly as he grumbles about me impeding his experiments.

Ron is now clambering over the floor, frantically picking up the disgusting toad bits from the dusty tiles. Professor Snape solemnly walks over, looking down on Ron with the familiar look of utter disdain.

"Mr. Weasley, may I ask why you are cleaning my classroom with toad innards?" he says imperiously, shaking a piece of his greasy hair from his pale face.

"I-I..." Ron stutters, too scared to speak. Snape sniffs, whipping his head to take a look at the potion.

"Potter, I don't suppose you have a clue as to what you are doing," he says again, looking at the murky grey of the potion. "Would you explain to me what a branch of Fraxinus excelsior is and the effects of it upon the potion?"

My brain wracks frantically for an answer, and my gaping mouth begins to feel bereft of anything but humiliation.

"_Watching you is sad, Potter."_

"Fraxinus excelsior, also known as the European Ash Tree, is not used in this particular potion, but if added in small strips, it will cause the solution to turn a bright green. This bright green color, contrary to belief, indicates its poisonous nature and will cause anyone who touches the mixture to choke and vomit out his innards until he is dead."

Everyone's eyes were now on me as I helplessly watch the words spill from my own mouth. Even Snape looked taken back, stepping backwards in shock.

"I'm glad you have been doing your reading," he mutters quickly before turning around to hide his wide eyes. "Get back to work, children!"

"_That was fun,"_ the smug voice interrupts my consciousness.

I look over at Ron, who had begun gazing at me similar to how he did when Hermione began to rattle off on "Hogwarts: A History". "It was Malfoy," I explain to him, "apparently he can use my voice too."

"Do I even know you anymore?" Weasley jokes, shaking his head in surprise. I pat him on the back, wondering if I even knew myself.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Never thought I'd have to retire  
Never thought I'd have to abstain  
Never thought all this could back fire  
Close up the hole in my vain

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I lay on my back next to Draco, his own pale body stretched out against my Gryffindor bed. He sighs contentedly, curling his naked body against mine.

"I do hope you've charmed the curtains this time, Potter; I wouldn't want Weasley traumatizing himself any further," he murmurs drowsily, and I gather him into my arms.

"I remember when you used to resist my embraces," I murmur back to the blonde, gently stroking the pale strands from his eyes. "I remember when you used to run from my touch."

"I've given in to my lust," Draco replies. "Besides, with such a persistent Gryffindor biting at my heels, how could I resist?"

I laugh, nibbling on his neck as he arches forward in a pleasurable sigh. "How long have we been doing this?"

"For most of the school year," I assure him. "And Easter vacation is approaching; soon you will be free of your father."

Malfoy nods, a small smile gracing his face as he stares back at me with half-lidded eyes. He brushes the dark strands of hair from my forehead, idly tracing my scar as I lean into his touch. "What will I do when you're gone," he whispers softly, his cool breath waking me from my pleasured trance.

"What do you mean?" I sit up, gazing at him in confusion. He also sits up, leaning against the bedpost sadly.

"Potter, we both agreed that we only lust for each other. After I switch sides, all I will have is you, and when you find someone else..." Malfoy looks away, closing his eyes. "I wonder if I'll feel as lost as I do right now."

I grab his shoulder, forcing him to face me. "Who says I'm going to find anyone new?" I demand. "What about you? What if _you_ end up with Ginny or some other girl?"

"I won't," he whispers, his defeated tone portraying his vulnerability. "I've decided to end the Malfoy line, but you need to continue your lineage; it is vital for this world."

"Who says so?" I snarl furiously. "Just because the world wants a happy Potter family with a meek, little spouse and four children does not mean I want that."

"But this is just lust," Draco reminds me, his condescending tone scolding me as though I were a child. "You will get sick of me and move on."

"No!" I drag the Malfoy down, crushing him with my body as I hold onto the boy as if it were my last day alive. "I love you!"

The Slytherin stares down at me with emotionless eyes. "No, you don't. Please, Potter, stop playing around; I am serious. We will part one day-"

I crush him with my lips, a single tear forcing its way down my cheek. I wipe it away before the boy under me could notice, and I bite his neck hard, drawing blood. He hisses in pain and pleasure, scraping my back with his nails.

_How could he say something like that? Why won't he believe me?_

_**Why?**_

I move lower, showering the older boy with as much attention as I could give him. He writhes under my frantic ministrations, gasping and moaning as his fingers entangle themselves in my hair.

I crawl back up to him, settling myself between his ready legs. I stare at him as he looks up towards me, face flushed with lust and passion. Many would say he was the likeness of an angel, but I shiver in disgust at the romance novelists of this modern day.

Draco was no angel.

**Draco was Draco, **and I love him for it.

I enter him slowly, allowing him time to settle and relax under my penetrating presence. As the mood began to heat, I give him another long kiss, breathing harshly against his ear.

"I love you."

He gasps, arching his back towards me. "I hate you!"

I smile sadly, burying my hidden face into his neck. Bitterness pierces my heart again, and I absently wonder if my wounded heart would eventually bleed to death. A sudden calmness settles over me, and I stop my actions. I look into the Slytherin's eyes, hands caressing his smooth cheek.

"It's ok; I hate you too."

_That's the answer you wanted to hear, right Draco?_

The Slytherin beneath me freezes, his hands stumbling to reach my face. Before I could feel his soft touch, he recoils, hiding his own face with his hands. He turns away just as I catch the gleam of wet liquid trailing down his sharp cheek.

_...Is he crying?_

I watch him in morbid fascination as the boy continues to bury his face between his hands and the pillow beneath him. I could tell Draco was trying not to shake and shiver, as his hands trembled above his face.

"_Malfoys don't cry,"_ I hear him whisper to himself. _"Malfoys don't feel anything!"_

"Draco, could it be that you also..." I begin to stutter at a lost for words.

_Could it be that you feel the same for me?_

I place my hand on his delicate chin, forcing him to face me. His hands are now curled into looses fists, frantically wiping away the wet rivulets of water. I gently place his hands by his sides, and he looks away in embarrassment.

"Malfoy, look at me," I whisper, kissing away his salty tears. I lap up the streams of liquid, ghosting my lips over his closed lashes.

"I'm not crying," he harshly whispers. "I don't care!"

"Hush..."

I kiss him deeply, relishing the boy's soft touch and he kisses back forcefully, clinging to me as if I was going to disappear. We continue our deed in silence, with the exception of Draco's choked sobs of pleasure and my own gasps of lust before we finish, and the atmosphere quickly grows heavy. Due to the Malfoy's sudden show of tears, the tired boy immediately falls asleep and lies curled up on his side. I wrap the blanket around his dainty frame while throwing my own robe over my shoulders.

Gazing at the teary-eyed Slytherin, I realize that Malfoy must have been deeply hurt to show such weakness. _Could it really be?_ I prop myself up on my elbows, tilting my head at the sleeping boy. A strange feeling had blossomed in my chest, one which made me feel guilty, yet somewhat exhilarated at the same time.

_I'll tell him seriously when he wakes up,_ I promise myself. _And I won't pretend it's a joke._

_I will make him believe me._

_You won't reject me, will you, Draco?_

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up, blurry-eyed and unaware of my surroundings. Groaning aloud, I rub the sleep from my eyes and brush across warm flesh.

_Potter's hand._

I bolt upright, grabbing my fallen robe and throwing it over my shoulders. The brunette looks at me, never breaking his gaze from my face. _Did he see me? _It appeared as if Potter had not stopped staring at my figure since I had fallen asleep.

_Did he see me cry?_

_I showed weakness. _My hands begin to shake once more, and I clasp my fingers to stop the tremors. _I haven't shed tears, not even when Potter had almost died!_

I break my gaze from the boy, unable to stare him in the eye. _Malfoys are supposed to be emotionless; we cannot show emotion. Weakness will be our downfall, we cannot-_ The rules I had been taught since I was a young lad quickly flies through my mind, and I desperately recite each of them to myself. Shedding tears was looked upon as the epitome of all weaknesses; it was almost deemed as bad as betraying the family—which I had also done.

_I'm such a useless tool, and an even more useless person!_

I raise a hand to my eyes, wishing to drown in the darkness that consumed me. A foreign hand gently removes my arm from my closed lids, and I turn to stare into the grim face of Potter.

"I-you didn't see anything?" I say hopefully, the tinge of pleading seeming weak even to my own ears.

_I cried when he told me he hated me! I know he hates me! Our feelings are reciprocated...so why?_

"I saw everything," he says firmly, his hand lifting my chin as I begin to look down again. "And I am sorry. I didn't know it would hurt you so badly."

"Sod off, Potter," I say hoarsely, laughing at my pathetic form. "I always knew you felt that way for me; it came as no surprise."

"No!" he insists, placing his other hand on my still arm. "I said it because I was hurt; I thought you would prefer me telling you lies instead of the truth."

"Lies?" my voice raises, "look, I knew this day would come, ok? Just leave me alone-"

"I can't; I love you!" Harry shouts, shaking me fiercely by the shoulders. "I've always been telling the truth; I've fallen for you!"

Somewhere within my stunned mind, a brilliant spark of hope burns between my eyes. I crush it cruelly, unable to face the pain it would give me if Potter was the one who extinguished the flame.

"I'm a bloke, Potter. You can't love me," I try to reason with him. "Besides, you were joking all those times to lighten the mood."

The Gryffindor groans in frustration, running his hand through disheveled hair. "I really feel for you, Draco, and I don't care if you're a man or not. In fact, I rather like it that way."

"You realize what you are saying?" I say to him in disbelief. _Why would he want another man, least of all me?_

"I'm a ponce, Draco. At least, for you I am. I admit that, and I don't care what the rest of the bloody world thinks," Potter declares, staring straight into my eyes and willing me to believe. Unable to say a word, I numbly stare back at him, mouth opening and closing rapidly.

He sighs. "Well, if you can't reciprocate my feelings, can you at least accept my confession?"

I think carefully, weighing the pros and cons. Of course, the cons outweighed the pros by quite a bit. _He's merely asking me to acknowledge his feelings, it is not like he expects me to fall arse over elbow for him immediately._

I look at him cautiously, wondering in amazement at his infinite patience. "I can't say that I can return your feelings," I begin slowly, "but I will accept your proposal."

Potter grins, scooping me into a giant hug. "I was hoping you'd say that," he whispers fiercely into my ear, giving me another hearty squeeze. "I love you so much, Draco!"

"...Can I call you Harry?" I mumble tentatively. He nods excitedly, kissing my entire face as I resignedly lean into his touch, a faint smile blooming on my tired lips.

_I suppose I was right; a tool _can_ be a human, after all._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Never thought I'd get any higher  
Never thought you'd fuck with my brain  
Never thought all this could expire  
Never thought you'd go break the chain

----------------------------------------------------------------

The few weeks after that were passed with much happiness and fervor; I spent many nights in Harry's bed—as he did in mine—and I got better acquainted to Weasley and Granger. The female Weasley was still too embarrassed to talk to me and Granger was rather formal, but I was most surprised to see how well Ron and I got along. Of course, half of our conversations were filled with insults and sarcastic remarks, but our general mindsets were similar.

Also, I began to feel as if Harry had chosen the right path for me; to walk the path of the Light, alongside the Boy-Who-Lived. During our amorous nights, Harry would tell me he loved me, and instead of shouting insults or rejecting him, I would smile happily, the sincerity of it scaring myself.

I, Draco Malfoy, felt free.

**I am free.**

And currently, I am chasing the blasted Weasel for stealing my Potions notes. "Damn you, Weasley!" I shout heatedly. "When I get my hands on you, I'm going to hex you to next year!"

"Oh be kind, Malfoy!" he gleefully shouts back. "You're too bloody smart for Potions! Let us poor blokes have a chance at passing the class!"

I speed after the redhead down the halls, a small smile placed in a mismatched fashion amongst my furious features. "I _do_ give you daft Gryffindors a chance; I let Harry have my notes all the time!"

"That's only because he could see through your eyes whenever he wants, so it'd be no use to hide it from him," Ron scoffs. He dashes through the Gryffindor tower, sticking his tongue out at me.

"It's no use hiding in there, Weasley!" I cry. "Harry's in there; I could just apparate to him!"

"Oh, _sure_," the redhead snorts, about to shut the portrait door in my face. "Harry's much too-Oof!"

Ginny crashes into Ron, pushing him away from the tower. "Goodness! I'm sorry, Ron! I didn't see you when I ran out."

"Where's Harry? I thought he was with you?" the elder Weasley asks, rubbing his bruised head.

"Hermione's helping him with transfigurations, so I rushed out to tell you not to bother them," the Weaselette says easily. "Was there something you needed?"

"Oh, not much," Ron says cheerfully. "Just Malfoy's notes!" He dashes past me, laughing heartily as he waves my precious Potions papers around, teasing me in his infuriating Weasel manner.

"You are going to _pay!_" I roar, rushing after the blasted boy. Behind me, Ginny giggles, but something felt...wrong.

_Something's wrong._

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Me and you baby,  
still flush all the pain away  
So before I end my day  
remember  
My sweet prince  
you are the one

* * *

**AN:** Phew! 21 pages for my lovely readers to enjoy! Hmm, I had somewhat hoped to get to Hermione's plan for this chapter, but Hogsmead took longer than I expected! All's well, though. The next chapter will be quite dark and most likely with a bunch of angst. Look forward to it!

**PS (Question!):** Instead of the British glossary that I put with British sayings used in my chapters, would you rather prefer that I put random British words and phrases to inform you readers of the British sayings out there? I think it'd be fun, but it all depends on you!

**British Dictionary**:

_Arse over elbow:_ Heads over heels

**Next Chapter: **Like Draco's intuition says...something is definitely wrong. The ultimate betrayal leads the Hogwarts characters to do some _very _drastic things! Next chapter will be filled with dark realizations, stunning betrayals, and angsty conclusions! The prophecy is almost about to come true; the day of battle is nearing...

**Shout outs:**

_Ater Phasma: _Mm, semi-dark Harry does go quite well with HPSS, I suppose. Rawr, nuu! My allegiance is to HPDM! HPDM! –starts thinking about HPSS- gaaaahhhh! On the other note, they're somewhat fixed now, I hope? ;D Of course, Draco's still being a silly poof and not admitting...but it's not as bad as before! And I agree, violent abuse is quite sexy at times...(I'm not a masochist, I'm not!) ;) I do _so_ enjoy your reviews –huggles-

_DMswissmissHG:_ Strangely enough, all I got from your review was "O MY GOD! I" Could you tell me what you were going to say in your next review or something? I really do appreciate good criticism:)

_Silver Angel 7: _Aww, thanks! Yea, I like to emphasize many words and phrasings, and italics and bolds are just great for diversion:) Although I'm quite surprised at myself, I managed to make Ron somewhat good after all. In the beginning, my plan was to make him the main villain, but goshdarnit! _Everyone_ makes Ron the main villain! Time to try something new? ;) And haha, I think I _will_ put something about losing socks, that suggestion is just too funny to give up! XD I really like your review, hope you give me more hilarious advice:D

_Chocola Emo Shizzle:_ I'm glad you like it! And I like your name, by the way. I don't know why, but I think it's really cute o.o;

_Miss G:_ :D It makes me so happy to know that people like my story! I heart you! –hugs-

_Melissa sue: _Wow, to be compared to J.K Rowling's own books...I'm very honored :) and don't worry about your spelling, I still greatly appreciate your review –hearts-

_Ambroisine:_ Hahaha! Yea, those Harry Potter doujinshi's are just...-swoons- any particular favorites you have? I'm completely in love with the _Tactics_ doujinshi, since the artwork is so droolworthy! Too bad I'm horrible at IRC, or I'd be drowning myself in even more doujinshi T-T;

_Mirokuluver's Friend:_ Of course you get a shout out:) You're my wonderful, wonderful reviewer who gives awesome possum reviews:3 Rawr, I tried to portray his friends as most people would react to homosexuals back in the day, buuuuuuuuuut with this new chapter, I hope I didn't rush Ron's acceptance x.x; And Ginny and Hermione? Next chappie it all comes out...-suspense!- bahahahah :)

_Sweetlildevil512:_ Continued! Still like my story? –crosses fingers and hopes the reviewer says yes!-

_Yurikitsune:_ It is the _best_ story ebar! I'm so addicted to it! (I don't know if it is a good thing or not...) Haha, well, if you finish reading chapter 19, be sure to tell me what you think! I was literally rolling around the room after it! You do make me blush though, I feel so honored to be put up with Lightning on the Wave :) Not to mention you really are one of my favorite reviewers –hearts hearts-

_Miss brownie:_ I continued! Wee! Hope the story's still flowing smoothly? I wasn't sure if this chapter was too rushed or not...

_SpeechlessQuestion:_ Ooh, you're quite right. Mione5 seems to be a really popular authoress around here, as most of the people I've checked have her in their Favorite Authors or Favorite Stories. Thanks for the brilliant advice :) Hope you enjoy this chapter!

_iNsAnE nO bAkA:_ Haha, I was tempted to write: "Wake up and smell the roses, Draco, I love you!" from Harry, but that doesn't fit quite well with the story, does it? XD And I agree, I would _love_ to be in that situation as well...I'm such a hopeless romantic! –falls over- Happy ending or not...hmmmmmm, I'm afraid the next chapter will give you quite a scare XD; But don't worry! It won't be _all_ dark and scary! I promise :)

_Pink-xXx-Kiss:_ Glad you got my review :D Hope it was helpful : )

**As always, good criticism and advice are incredibly helpful! (Even a nice word of encouragement will do) : )**


	10. Never More

**A/N:** This chapter was supposed to express emotions of bitterness, frustration, and utter hopelessness at one's situation (don't know if I expressed it well though). Also, I'm surprised I made Draco a bit erm...unstable? I seem to have a habit of turning my characters mad in all of my stories...x.x

**PS:** The song is by Placebo, called "Pierrot the Clown."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**The Prophecy:** Dark encounters light, either canceling existence or blending into dusk; destroying prophecies or completing fate.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco dwell behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

**

* * *

**

Masquerade – Never More

* * *

**Previously:**

"_Where's Harry? I thought he was with you?" the elder Weasley asks, rubbing his bruised head._

"_Hermione's helping him with transfigurations, so I rushed out to tell you not to bother them," the Weaselette says easily. "Was there something you needed?"_

"_Oh, not much," Ron says cheerfully. "Just Malfoy's notes!" He dashes past me, laughing heartily as he waves my precious Potions papers around, teasing me in his infuriating Weasel manner._

"_You are going to –pay-!" I roar, rushing after the blasted boy. Behind me, Ginny giggles, but something felt...wrong._

_-Something's wrong.-_

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Leave me dreaming on the bed,

see you right back here tomorrow, for the next round.  
Keep this scene inside your head,

As the bruises turn to yellow, and the swelling goes down.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A deep rumble resounds from my throat as I chuckle at Draco's outraged voice.

_Morgana's gown, I can hear him even from here!_

Shaking my head, I fail to suppress the grin that stretches contentedly over my face; it was a never ending source of amusement when Ron and the Slytherin were quarreling.

_Not to mention the one time Ron dared insult Malfoy's sense of fashion..._I fall over my bed stand, howling with laughter at the memory of a furious Draco dragging an equally resisting Weasley to Hogsmead and buying the helpless Gryffindor a whole new wardrobe—after forcing the poor boy to go through thousands of articles of clothing. The traumatized redhead had shut his mouth about anything to do with fabric since then, blushing brightly whenever someone mentioned his horrifying shopping expedition.

_It is a shame that Draco has not told Pansy or Blaise about us yet_, I muse, remembering the Slytherin's scandalized face when I casually mentioned the idea.

"_But they're friendlier than the other Slytherins!" I had insisted. "And they are close to you—wouldn't you want your closest friends to know?"_

_Malfoy sighed, dropping heavily into his chair without his usual pureblood grace. He looked heavily perturbed, and the crease on his forehead displayed his anxiety._

"_It does not work that way, Potter," he whispered resignedly to me, slender fingers making circling motions on his temple. "They are Slytherins, after all."_

"_But Draco-" I began to argue, stopping when he raised a tired hand._

_He smiled sadly at me, regret clawing at his flawless face. "Trust me, you would not want them to know."_

The frightening surety that the boy had spoken to me with brought chills to my spine, and I had grudgingly accepted Malfoy's decision. Standing up, I begin to organize and stack the necessary scrolls of notes for the day, beginning with the horrid task of Arithmancy calculations.

_I must have over a mile of these mind-boggling numbers_, I think disgustedly to myself, wrinkling my nose in distaste. _Although having leagues of Potions notes are equally revolting._

Shoving the thick parchments into my bag, I hear the door open behind me and the shuffling of slow, steady feet. "I see Draco didn't hex you into oblivion after you thieved away his property," I joke, expecting the rambunctious laughter of the familiar redhead. When he failed to answer, I frown and quickly turn around—Hermione stood tersely by the door.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione, you gave me quite a scare!"

She says nothing to my exclamation, calmly standing in front of me with a wistful look on her face. I repeat her name questionably, stepping forward in a show of slight concern. The long-haired Gryffindor tilts her head and puts her hands on her hips, gazing at me petulantly.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Do you really love him?" she questions abruptly, a look I could not interpret etched onto her plain features.

"Is this about Draco? Look 'Mione, I know you haven't been quite comfortable with him, but even Ron-"

"Do you love him, Harry?"

I stare at her, wondering what answer she expected to receive. Her sullen eyes give away nothing, and I lift my chin in firm defiance.

"Yes, I do."

A harsh gaze slides over my obstinate body, searching for flaws in my form; a nervous glance, perhaps. Opening her tiny mouth again, she lets out a stream of incorrigible reasoning, like a noxious gas of deception, slowly encasing the room in its vileness.

"How do you know?"

"I-I just do. He makes me happy."

The foreboding feeling of her questionings continues curls around my legs, creeping past my thighs as the atmosphere turns constricting and deadly. "How would you know, Harry? Is this how you felt for Cho?"

"I never loved Cho, Hermione, it was a boyish fancy; this is different with Draco."

I struggle to maintain my breathing as the venomous vapor of doubt itches up my arm. "Harry, he's Draco Malfoy, and a boy no less! Maybe you _think_ you feel for him merely because you have never been with a girl."

The floating wisp of toxic logic licks my face and I shiver. "I love him, Hermione, and I am serious about it!"

The girl steps closer, a hidden breeze blowing her curly brown hair menacingly around her face. "You need to explore more before determining a definite conclusion; after all, couldn't this new side of you be a passing fancy as well?"

A haze of sudden fear passes over my eyes, clouding my thoughts. _Could she be right? Could my passion with Draco be mere hormones? _

"Harry," the Lioness inches closer still and I find myself unable to move. "I can provide for you like Malfoy cannot; I _know _you!"

_I've known 'Mione ever since first year_, I remind myself, my head feeling heavy as the gas forces its way into my faulty reasoning. _She has done much for me._

An arm's length away from my half-lidded eyes, Granger's hands delicately slide upwards. "I love you, Harry," she murmurs softly. "Give me the chance to show you the happiness you deserve."

_Am I unhappy?_ My mind spins furiously, unable to unravel the daze of the heavy fog. _Could my love for...for—_Suddenly, I could not remember his name.

_Do I really fancy boys?_

Bony arms sneak onto my shoulders, pulling me close as a small body leans over, face slightly puckered and two twin dabs of rose-tinted blush on pearly cheeks. Horrified eyes stare back at me, a pale mouth trembling as it delicately gapes from behind Hermione's shoulders.

_Draco!_

"Ha-Harry?" a broken voice cracks, the tone woeful yet disbelieving.

How could I have forgotten Draco? How could I have doubted myself when my feelings were so clear? Deep shame and guilt flood my body, causing me to cringe with discomfort.

_How could I have let Hermione manipulate my preference?_

There was no doubt in my mind now that I was completely and solely attracted to males—namely, a certain bloke by the name of Draco Malfoy. Staring down at the surprised girl, I open my mouth to tell her-

"Did you really...?"

My head snaps up, and I realize that the blonde of my thoughts had been standing by the doorway the entire time rather than the hallucination I thought had appeared. It was his broken voice I had heard before, and the pressing emotions of his inner turmoil constrict my throat.

"I can't believe you," Malfoy continues in stunned disgust. "I can't _believe_ you!"

He pushes himself away from the frame of the door, standing rigid and tall in effort to keep hold of his injured pride. His entire body trembles in rage; teeth clenching painfully and slender jaw twitching in erratic movements.

"Why did you have to nurture the hope inside of me," Draco snarls, "only to crush it? Was this all a joke, Potter, to make Draco Malfoy fancy you?"

"Draco, I-"

"You are not worthy of calling my name!" he roars angrily, fists clenching his sides. Lowering his head sullenly to the floor, Malfoy's voice drops an octave, the pitch seeming low and barely audible. "Because of this, I am not worthy of my own Malfoy title."

I notice his eyes flick towards Hermione, who stands impishly by my side. "After all you've done to make me finally accept you, to make me feel like I live for a reason other than being a slave-" he freezes as Granger slides her slimy hand up my arm, clutching the limb with her feminine form.

"Malfoy, I believe that Harry would be happier with a girl."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And if you're ever around, in the city or the suburbs, of this town,  
Be sure to come around, I'll be wallowing in sorrow,

wearing a frown, like Pierrot the clown.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

I seethe, innards twisting themselves into knots as I stare at the treacherous lass in front of me. It made me even angrier to see Harry staring at her dumbly, mouth agape and at a loss for words.

_Aren't you going to tell me this isn't what it seems? Why aren't you pushing her away? Why aren't you comforting me?_

"Speak to me, Harry," I force myself to whisper. "Do not play the tyrant."

He gazes at me and I challenge him, looking him fully in the eye, _daring_ him to give me a reason. The pathetic Gryffindor opens his mouth again, coughing nervously. Silence pervades the room and I wonder how I could have ever _thought_ of falling for the miserable boy.

_Speak to me._

The silence continues to grow, stretching its vague body across the gulping abyss of awkwardness. It becomes painfully evident that Harry Potter was at a loss for words. His face is drawn and pale, staring at me with helpless eyes.

**Speak to me!**

The green orbs close and open again in a startled blink. A tentative foot awkwardly steps forward, and I see through Harry's plan of catching me in an embrace.

Hold me tightly and whisper sweet nothings into my ear, apologize profusely and deny everything, all the while expecting me to melt into your sturdy arms with relief and gratitude? Or would you rather grasp my shoulders and shake me harshly, proclaiming your love to the highest mountains before having me tearfully break down onto your welcoming body?

I, Draco Malfoy, was never one for meaningless words and actions. In my one moment of greatest need, I had wished for Potter to answer my calls for help, but he had instead banished me to the darkest dungeons of the Dark Lord, extinguishing the small torch of light I had left.

_There is nothing more to salvage._

"I can't believe you," I nastily repeat, features cold and harsh from the numbing pain. "Are you too much of a hero to cough up your sins?"

"Dra-Malfoy, this isn't what it seems!" he finally cries, weak voice falling prey to deaf ears.

"Took you long enough for that excuse, Potter," I drawl, self-disgust creeping back into my empty chest as I fall back into my familiar shell. "I always knew Gryffindors were thick-headed numbskulls without an ink of vocal talent."

"I'm serious, Malfoy, I was not about to do anything irresponsible!"

"Please stop lying, Potter. Even your excuses are pitiful."

"I agree," a voice speaks grimly behind me. "Fancy seeing you in this position, Harry."

I whip around, finding the Weasel in the process of taking off Potter's Invisibility cloak. "I chased Malfoy here and used Harry's cloak to hide," he coolly explains, eyes flickering over Potter and Granger. "I had hoped to catch the Malfoy unaware, but I found something else instead."

Surprise runs freely through my veins; I had expected Ron to explode into the familiar rage that all Weasleys possessed. However, I begin to realize that the Weasel turned silent, thoughtful, and—dare I say?—mature when faced with the grimmest of situations—this being a prime example.

"You knew I loved her," the redhead continues, obviously struggling not to crack or stutter. "I told you everything, yet you still betray me."

Granger's face takes a look of feigned surprise, eyes turning wide. "I'm sorry," she whispers innocently. "I never knew-"

"Bollocks!" Ron suddenly shouts, a trace of his familiar temper flitting across his pained face. "You knew as well! For the sake of our friendship, I turned a blind eye to your amorous glances and touches at Harry, but now that I know it is reciprocated..."

The boy chokes, unable to say any more. I take a step towards the redhead to offer him support, but he shakes his head, eyes refusing to leave Harry's. "I thought you were my friend; I thought you had more respect toward others than to betray the two people who cared for you most."

I immediately object, salt rubbing onto my open wound. "I don't care for that philandering prat-"

"Malfoy, please," his strained voice wheezes, and I stop, glancing mutely at the three Gryffindors. Harry had finally begun to shift, ripping Granger's hand from his arm.

"You've got this all wrong; Hermione confessed to me, and I was just about to deny her-"

"I _saw_ her advancing towards you, giving you more than a moment's time to get away!" Ron shouts. "Yet the most you do is flinch after seeing your lover's horrified face."

"It wasn't that!" Potter shouts back, eyes flashing in desperate anger. "I am _not_ a skirt chaser, Ron, I love Draco." He stares pleadingly towards me, conveying mixed emotions of remorse, regret, and affection.

"I love you, Draco."

I gaze at him critically, noting the way Hermione had begun creeping towards Potter again. Ron, now standing beside me, tenses as the sneaky vixen places a trembling hand on the brunette's back.

"Why didn't you deny that we were lovers?" My voice was strangely smooth as I struggle to stay calm, hand flexing near the wand in my pocket.

"What?" Potter looks taken aback. "Aren't we?"

"We never were!" I spit forcefully, causing the accused Gryffindor to take a step back.

"But Draco, my feelings are true!"

I laugh, the harsh, gritty sound rumbling painfully in my throat. "Is this some pathetic romance novel? You _have_ no feelings, you insensitive prat!" I feel my illusion swaying, gold flashing through vibrant blue-grey. "We never even _acted_ like lovers!"

Potter's face now retains a hurt, yet curious look and I allow myself another unnatural laugh. "Sure, we slept with each other; we indulged ourselves in sin, but not once have we ever woken up to dawn together."

Harry's eyes widen, and I step forward, jabbing my wand in his direction with a well-used sneer. "You never did realize that, did you, Potter? We've never actually stayed with each other until morning, so wasn't our relationship similar to a series of one night stands?"

"No, please, Draco." Harry spreads his arms, willing positive sensations of regret and faith to reach my cold presence. They continue wavering towards me, enticing me with promises of devotion, care, and eternal love.

"Draco?"

**Eternal damnation, you mean!**

Granger's lecherous hand was still on his back, yet his eyes continue to gaze steadily into mine. Ron trembles in fury beside me, and Potter's rush of feelings cling to me like sticky vomit.

My vision blurs, not because of tears—never will I cry again—but because of rage and humiliation.

_How _dare_ he? How dare he give me a taste of the Light, only to take it away?_

"Draco?"

"Sod off, Potter!" I spit angrily, dashing from the room. I ignore Weasley's startled cry as my ex-bedmate pushes past him and Granger's distressed wail as her lover wrenches from her thorny grasp.

The Gryffindors in the common room shriek, throwing themselves out of my path as my Slytherin self violates their territory, hastily treading over their scarlet floor with my Slytherin-tainted shoes. Outside, students and professors alike scream at me in hatred as I forcefully run through them. I feel Potter behind me, his frantic cries echoing along the melancholy hallways.

_No more of this; I've stood a lifetime of it...I don't need any more_

_**Manipulation.**_

I dash outside, falling forward as Potter grabs hold of my arm and crushes me into an embrace. He rambles various apologies, clutching me as if I would fade away.

_I wish I could._

Violently pushing him off my body, I hold my trembling arms around me as if I were a violated lass. "Stay away from me, Potter; you disgust me!"

"Malfoy, I _told_ you it was a mistake-"

"Then why didn't you deny it?" I demand. "Why didn't you tell me right off the broom that Granger meant nothing to you?" My legs give away, slumping towards the earthen ground. My expensive robes become tainted with fresh dirt, digging into the corrupted soil

_Tainted like my soul._

**Corrupted from what I allowed Potter to do with my body.**

Never had I felt so dirty, and as the Gryffindor's hand falls upon my shoulder, I quickly slap it away. Green eyes flash with hurt and Harry grimaces as I tell him harshly to step back. "Hermione caught me by surprise; I did not know she would be so bold."

"Surprise just stole the two people who ever dared to trust you, Potter," I whisper bitterly. "It is too late."

"But nothing happened!" he cries desperately, flinging his hands in emphasis. "I was about to tell 'Mione that I loved you, and that she should be with Ron-"

"**It is too late."**

The tone of finality in my words cut him short, realization dawning upon him faster than his precious Firebolt.

"You don't mean-"

"Oh yes I do, Potter, I told you long ago and I meant it. You were the one who made my decisions for me, and it is not your place to regret it."

"But I _told_ you! I didn't know what she was up to, and when I finally figured out I was too frozen to react-"

"You could have called me, asked for my assistance." The words tumble from my mouth, and as much as I tried, I could not stop the flow. "I would have apparated to you immediately, and you know that."

I stare coldly into his broken face, the grim expression reflecting my own soul. "Or did you not trust me enough to come to your aid?"

Harry lowers his eyes in submission. "It was an error on my part."

"A faulty calculation that cost you dearly," I snap. His fist clenches, and my greedy eyes graze hungrily over his familiar flesh.

"I guess I forgot that you never make mistakes," he whispers sulkily, daring me to challenge him.

My immediate response was to say that Malfoys do not make mistakes, but I was wrong. I slowly lift myself from the ground, brushing the brown stains from my robes. Glancing towards the murky sky—_Everything's tainted today, isn't it?_—I spread my arms and turn towards Potter, looking solemnly into his eye.

"...You were my only mistake, Harry, only you."

"Are you sure your jealousy is not out of hand?" he dares to question, and my blood boils at his insinuation. I reach over, grabbing the collar of his Gryffindor robe before punching him square in the jaw. I think with grim satisfaction of the pain that the blasted Boy-Who-Lived must be feeling; my bloodied knuckles were smarting badly.

"It is not a question of jealousy, but of honor and pride," I snip coldly, stoic face unmoving as I continue looking down at the fallen Gryffindor.

I knew that Granger had forced herself upon him, much like how I knew that he eventually would have rejected her, but to be unable to push her away for so long was already a sign of fatal weakness.

_Much like his inability to depend on me._

My fists clench spasmodically, miniscule rivulets of ruby fluid trickling down my pale skin. Controlling the urge to scream and curse, I push past the dejected Gryffindor, walking slowly towards the hallway.

"I will see you on the other side, Potter."

My foot takes another step, and Harry's dead voice reaches my numbed ears. He sounds close to tears; throat thick with sorrow as he murmurs the painful word.

"_Why?"_

I stop, staring straight ahead and refusing the urge to wrap my arms around the insolent boy behind me. "Because you made the choice for me."

"No! I want you to stay!" Harry whips around, grabbing me and enveloping my body with his heated warmth. "_This_ is my choice!"

"Let go of me, Potter." My voice is carefully devoid of emotion and I feel him tense.

"**Let go."**

He reluctantly acquiesces and I walk away, never once looking back to stare at his crumpled form. My blue-grey orbs burn in agony, threatening to unleash the flood within, and I blink hastily, forcing myself to calm. I repeat my childhood mantra, the one which I had been trained to repeat:

**I am but a tool.**

It had never occurred to me that I would find comfort in those words, but the road is now paved, and all I could do was walk it. I stare at the long, dark hallways of Hogwarts, refusing to close my eyes in submission of the pain that threatens my entire being. I feel tarnished and used; tainted and betrayed.

_I have made a fool of myself—a tool is a tool, forever nothing more._

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saw you crashing 'round the bay,

never seen you act so shallow, or look so brown.  
Remembered all the things you'd say,

how your promises went hollow, as you threw me to the ground.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Easter Vacation was nearing, and as a result, the students bounce madly around the halls in excitement. I lean back against the hallway, taking a deep breath as Pansy latches onto my arm in her usual coquettish manner. Blaise chuckles, slinging an arm around his girlfriend (we make quite a threesome, don't we?) as he continues telling me his joke.

I look towards my right, smirking tiredly towards Weasely—he had been the biggest change of all. After the incident, Ronald Weasely had taken with the Slytherins, blending easily within our complex network and becoming one of us. Sometimes I wonder whether he still belongs in Gryffindor, as his personality had turned too dark to assume things.

"What are you going to do during the vacation, Ron?" Blaise mentions casually, reaching over to slap the redhead on the back. "Inviting Gryffindors to your cozy home?"

Ron languidly looks over the boy, his brooding form causing Zabini to blush—Weasley's sudden darkness had caused him to become strangely attractive, earning him more confessions from the students of Hogwarts. Strangely, he had rejected them all without hesitation, stating that he did not want anyone by his side. Currently, he slouches against the wall next to me, hands digging into his pockets as he contemplates Blaise's question.

"I suppose I'll spend time with my family," he muses. "Unless they decide to invite some useless vermin." His tone darkens, and everyone grows silent over the hidden implication.

Pansy giggles nervously. "Don't worry, you could always stay over at _my_ place." She slinks an arm over Ron, and he eyes her with a raised brow until she blushes and retracts the trespassing limb.

"I'd let you stay over at my mansion, but I'm afraid I have some 'duties' to attend to," I admit, and the redhead nods darkly at my admission. He knew what was to come for most of the seventh year Slytherins and although he was for the Light, he told no one of our plans.

Suddenly, a rush of nauseous desperation claws its way into my chest and I cringe, Ron catching me in his startled arms. I stare into the familiar green eyes, Zabini and Parkinson following my gaze as their lips curl automatically at the sight of Potter...with Granger. Ron himself was trembling in ferocious hatred, handling his incredible temper with an iron will.

"Where is the Weaselette?" I mock painfully, the vicious, depressive bile thick in my dry throat. "I thought you basked in the company of more than one lover."

Weasley tenses at my words, but he says nothing. Both he and I knew Ginny had taken us away from the tower to give Hermione time with Potter on that day; she had also played the game.

"Malfoy, don't do this," Potter whispers, twitching as Hermione tries to grab him by the hand.

"Do what?" I sneer, letting him see my uncaring face.

"_Look at me. This is what you made me become; this is what you wanted."_

His body jerks at my words, startled green against iced blue-grey. I challenge him without saying a word, and he walks away, his precious Mudblood obediently trotting at his heels. I turn my back on them, patting Ron on the back and asking if he was all right. The redhead nods his head mutely, and I flinch as I hear a missed voice in my mind.

"_I want -_you-_."_

I grant the hero a dry chuckle, allowing the bitterness to seep through our link before shutting the door firmly in his face. "We must be off to Divinations—pity that you don't share the class with us, Weasley."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I dream, I dream of your lips,  
when I dream, I dream of your kiss,  
when I dream, I dream of your fists,

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pain blazes through my veins, tearing apart my limbs and chewing at my entrails. I awaken with a loud gasp, frantically rubbing at the blood that trickled down my face; for the fifth night in a row, I had the dream:

_Corpses lay littered around the hollow ground, splayed frighteningly similar to scattered leaves on a musky autumn evening. The world around me was in chaos, as were the people raging against each other in the whirling background. I ducked as a curse flew my way, rolling around and hexing back blindly in return. Voldemort was in the middle of the fray, cackling with his disgusting sharp teeth and beady eyes as he destroyed my allies with ferocious curses, leaving them bloody and mutilated beyond recognition._

_Behind him, he shielded a slender, cloaked figure. However, the figure needed no protection, merely raising a shield of solid ice to block all charms and physical weapons in the way. In addition, those who attempted to get near would immediately perish, screaming in a voice more horrid than all the others on the battleground combined._

_I neared Voldemort and he paused, sensing my presence. The air froze around me and everything went silent save my own breathing and the hiss of the disgusting Dark monster in front of me. Voldemort lifted his wand, ready to attack with an incantation upon his rotted lips. As soon as I yelled a curse towards him, the cowardly menace laughed and apparated. The charm flew towards the figure, my heart mysteriously leaping to my throat as the spell missed by a hair. The figure continued to say nothing, stepping forward to greet me instead._

_Robes ghosted gracefully over the battlefield, slithering over the rotten bodies as if there were nothing there. A gleaming hand bearing a familiar crested ring reached from within the robes, stretching towards me as if in a silent plea. I did nothing, staring dumbly as the hand dropped and retracted into its pockets, serenely lifting a slender wand._

_A musical voice began to whisper a hypnotic incantation and to my utmost horror, a single lock of platinum blonde hair drifted softly into the dusty light-_

I _accio_ a glass of water, greedily consuming the cool liquid. The dream had seemed hauntingly real and the hopeless feelings were still rich in my mind.

_What was that?_

I shake my head, unable to clear my head of my most recent vision. The Headmaster had smiled sadly at me when I told him about the vivid dream, only wishing me luck and well being until the day the vision would become reality. It was obvious that the old man knew something, but refused to tell me.

_Damn it all!_

I clutch my head in frustration, ignoring the steady stream of scarlet flowing past my clenched eyes. My mind wanders back to the incident with Draco; the day my world fell apart. After Draco had left, Ron began to grow distant. He refused to associate with me, Hermione, and Ginny, although he was still friendly with the other Gryffindors. Soon, he had obtained a silent attitude and we were forced to accept the fact that the old, carefree Weasley was gone.

In his place sat a sullen, young man who looked as though he had seen too much of the world. Ron had grown up almost overnight, and he was now someone that no one recognized, opting to sit calmly with the Slytherins instead of chatting with his Gryffindor mates. Even Hermione had grown shocked and regretful after seeing Weasley's sudden change.

_Bringing me back to the problem..._

Hermione had grown more insistent on having me experiment with women, pleading that "you're single now, Harry, you can't think about him forever!" This time, I wisely pushed her away, telling her firmly, "Yes, Hermione, I can and I will." Even Ginny seemed apologetic at my situation and had dutifully avoided my presence since that day.

_Yet it is too late to correct our wrongdoings_, I think miserably, reminiscing of Draco's haunting phrase.

_**It is far too late.**_

I pull the blanket back over my head, wishing that I could turn back time. There was nothing I could do but watch helplessly as my life tragically unfolds, starting from that one crucial point of my first betrayal...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leave me bleeding on the bed,

see you right back here tomorrow, for the next round.  
Keep this scene inside your head,

as the bruises turn to yellow, and the swelling goes down..

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Harry, I'm sorry, I really am," she tells me, tears welling in her wide, guilty eyes. She nervously glances at Ron, who was standing carelessly behind her, slouching moodily in a shady, Slytherin manner. "Ron-"

He holds up a cold hand. "Don't."

Virginia Weasely grabs her lost brother's fingers, holding them tightly against her tear-stained cheek. "Do not forsake me, Ron, you are my closest brother!" she cries as he tries to take his hand away. "I never meant to hurt you!"

"Then why did you do it?" I say tiredly, watching as Ginny numbly falls back onto her bag of luggage at the older redhead's rejection. Easter vacation officially begins today, and I had felt obligated to send the poor girl off. She sniffs miserably, holding a small handkerchief to her nose and looking every bit the neglected, lonely, little lass.

"I was jealous; I felt that Malfoy would have fancied me if he was away from you," she whispers softly. "I felt so horrid, Harry! Even more so after I realized what I had done!"

I smile sympathetically at her, the corners of my mouth strained with force. "I understand, Ginny, as long as you apologize to Malfoy as well."

She nods tearfully, gazing back at her unmoving brother. "Ron?" she pathetically mews. "I know what I did was unforgivable, but I cannot lose my brother! Ron!"

He stares coldly at her, speaking not a word as she begins crying anew. His features had twisted similarly to Malfoy and the other Slytherins; a hardness bred into maturity through harsh experiences.

"Ron, forgive your sister, if not me," I sigh, and his head whips towards mine, gracing me with a Malfoy glare. Seeing my tired resignation, he swivels back to his sister, gazing at her with blue eyes that softened minutely. Gently, he places a hand upon her trembling shoulder and she gladly leans into the touch, embracing her brother as she sobs loudly, begging for his clemency.

"I know you didn't mean to cause so much trouble, Ginny," Ron says slowly with calmness that he could not have possessed before the incident. "Love is a fickle and completely irresponsible thing."

"_Don't say such irresponsible things, Potter. I hate you!"_

My head snaps up, gasping upon the memory. Even now, flashbacks of the pale Slytherin torture me, painful and tearing, yet still I accept them with strange relish.

_They are the only things I have of Draco._

"I suppose we better floo before Mum gets worried," Ron tells his sister. He gently wipes her tears with his sleeve, glancing into her eyes. "Don't have such a miserable expression on your face; it is too obvious."

His own expression was devoid of anything; a blank mask in the making. I shiver as I remember Malfoy's and my own, sadly regretting the decision that had forced me to part with the thin blonde.

_The decision that also decided our fates._

It was all too clear—especially through my foreseeing dreams—of what was to come. I had unwittingly chosen the wrong path for Draco, and now we must both die for the consequences. Dumbledore had gazed at me with sad, sad eyes and his phoenix wept a waterfall of tears when I asked him to stay at Hogwarts.

Like me, he knew what was to come, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"_Harry," he had solemnly called me with familiar warmth, "I am sorry, my boy."_

_I smiled at him, staring deep into the tragic depths of the man's eyes._

"_It was my own undoing."_

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
And if you're ever around, in the city or the suburbs,

of this town, be sure to come around, I'll be  
wallowing in sorrow, wearing a frown, like Pierrot the clown,

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I bolt up from my bed, gasping in shock as the pain floods into me. Toppling off the structure, I writhe on the stone floor, choking and crying out as the heat forces its way into my body. The feeling was similar to the Cruciatus curse, but it lacked the hatred and animosity that the Unforgivable favored. Instead, I recognize hints of sullen willingness and resigned defeat, along with a dose of self-disgust.

Distantly, I hear the faint sound of _"Morsmordre!"_ through the haze of blinding pain, and I gasp again as I hear a sizzling crackle and the smell of burnt flesh. For a single moment, I find myself in another body, teeth gritting as I hunch over in pain. My black robes were splattered with blood, and the others around me were dressed in a similar fashion. They stand solemnly as I struggle to control my flashing agony.

_I am not Lucius; I can handle this. A tool does not feel emotion. A tool does not feel pain._

_**I am but a tool, forever nothing more.**_

Green orbs snap open in shock and I shakily place a quivering hand onto the wooden bed stand. Hastily tearing open my sleeve, I gaze fearfully at the smooth flesh of the left arm, running light brushes across the limb and reveling in relief at its flawless surface. Glancing into the mirror, I realize that my scar had begun to bleed anew.

My reflection gazes back at me, haunted and hurt. The features melt, combine, and clump together, the slack jaw tightening into a small smirk for a second before falling back in place. The body leans over, resting its figure against the other side of the silver glass.

"It is done,"the being whispers, and I collapse onto the floor, my weak knees giving away and my elbow scraping harshly against the unforgiving ground.

My chest heaves heavily as loud, wracking sobs choke my throat and my anguished howls turn into soundless wails. The prophecy had been set into motion, and I knew then that hope was lost.

_You crushed my hope, Potter. Why did you do it? How could you do this to me?_

**Hope.**

The one thing Draco had brutally suppressed in order to live. I had savagely glued it back into his mind, giving him a show of happiness before ripping it to shreds with my bare hands; I had failed.

_I failed you, Draco._

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I dream, I dream of your lips,  
when I dream, I dream of your kiss,  
when I dream, I dream of your fists,

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few days were filled with visions. They happened at night, they happened during the day. Sometimes they'd catch me unsuspecting and drag me flying into the horrid nightmare.

Much like today, as I was taking a bath:

_I creep along the sides of the house, urging my companions to follow my lead. Together, we rush into the house, destroying anything alive. I had found myself faced with a father and his two young children, both looking fearfully into my deadened mask._

_Staring coldly at them, I harshly hiss, "You know what I am here for."_

"_No!" the man shouts, raising his trembling wand towards my looming figure. "I will never tell you! I will-" His expression turns surprised and terrified as I cackle into his face; my laughter like a crow's cry, harsh and unforgiving._

"_That is all right," I smirk. "We will find others. _Sectumsempra!"

_The elder man screams, batting wildly at the bloody cuts that immediately begin to appear upon his body in dark, vivid red welts. My lips twist into a cruel smile. "Do not worry, sir, I will take good care of your children."_

_He stares back at me, disfigured body struggling to stand between me and his two crying sons. "Please, spare them!"_

_I lower my head, looking through thick lashes. "Believe me, they will be better off this way. _Avada Kedavra!"

_The two young boys slump onto the floor, dead eyes staring blankly at the life they had been prevented from living. The man howls, tearing at his hair as more blood rushes from his self-inflicted wounds. By this time, the other Deatheaters rush into the room, confirming that the other inhabitants had been taken care of._

"_Take this man away," I order. "The Dark Lord will have much use for him."_

_The rest of my companions laugh in unison, pulling at the desperate victim. "Yo-You monsters!" he yells. "How can you stand this? _Monsters!"

_I watch the raving man rant, snarling mouth dribbling with crimson spittle and a wet trail of copper dripping in his wake on the muddied floor. Leaning over, he tries to bite my face. "I don't _stand_ this, kind sir," I whisper to the condemned. "It was the path that I was to take. Please remember that before your death."_

_He screams again, wailing in rage at the loss of his wife and children and knowing that his other relatives were being dispatched of at the very same moment. I turn away, apparating to the other sites of destruction, looking for something else to corrupt._

_Perhaps if I kill enough, I will be able to become unfeeling; the perfect tool._

_**Because that was what He wanted.**_

I grip my head, tears coursing through my eyes. For a boy, I had been sniffling like a little lass the entire vacation, but the pain was just too much to bear.

"Draco..." I sob, grasping the edge of the tub. "What have I done?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I dream, I dream of your lips,  
when I dream, I dream of your kiss,  
when I dream, I dream of your fists,

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The last incident occurred while I was under Professor McGonagall's care. I remember her widened eyes as the vision struck me by surprise, causing me to yelp and slump over the hard desk. The Transfiguration instructor's frantic face mixed with the scene of a dark building, housing several familiar faces...

"_Zabini, Parkinson," I acknowledge my loyal teammates. "This will be your first mission; are you ready?"_

_Pansy looks nervous, unconsciously fingering the fabric of her robes. "I don't see how you can do so many missions, Draco, you're out on duty everyday!"_

"_There are many things to do," I coolly reply, nodding to Blaise as he opens his mouth to speak._

"_Is it really that easy t-to kill?" he says softly, unable to look me in the eye. I tighten my lips and he flinches at my negative response._

"_No," I whisper to him, noticing his eyes widen. "But I must, for it is my path."_

"_Why?" Pansy cries. "We twist our roads to follow yours, so why can't you veer from your own path, like us?"_

"_He has chosen for me," I say resolutely. "Now come, today will be fun." I motion them towards the other Deatheaters, ignoring their puzzled glances. "We will be wrecking havoc on an entire town."_

"_A whole town?" Blaise's eyebrows shoot up._

"_Indeed. Kill anything that breathes and destroy all property until it is beyond repair," I say flippantly, the cold emptiness in my chest spreading further across my body. I welcome it, sighing contentedly._

_Parkinson looks at me with a faint look of disgust. "No wonder you're almost the Lord's right hand man."_

_I challenge her gaze, staring her down. "Do I offend you, Parkinson?" _

_The Slytherin girl flushes in shame, looking down and shaking her head minutely. I smile coldly at her concession. "You will never understand my actions, so do not assume. Hurry, we must be off."_

_We portkey, arriving in a humble small town. Walking quickly into the center plaza, I shoot the Dark Mark into the air, my comrades ambushing the innocents. I whirl around in a deliberate swirl of robes, joining them in the frenzy and firing a few spells of my own._

_Each of my spells hit their mark; powerful curses that were too painful to even name. Screams fill my ears and I force myself to throw my head back and laugh._

_Good, the more I see, the less I will feel. _

_**I will become the perfect tool.**_

_I run into a smoking house, putting a bleeding woman out of her misery and kicking her lifeless body away from the object she had been shielding. I stab my wand towards the huddled figure; a frightened young girl, now bereft of her mother, who clung to a bloodied leg of a table. She scoots back at the sight of me, whimpering in fear._

"No!" I yell, forcing my presence deeper into the mind and startling Pomfrey from her inspection of me. I ignore the sudden sensation of stiff sheets and potion scents, delving through my connection in a desperate attempt to seize the body, frantically willing the arm to move away.

_I freeze, my arm unwilling to move. Frowning, I feel as if I had been poss-_

_Potter!_

_Ice cold rage consumes me at the mention of his name, cracking into dust as my illusion abruptly breaks, power engulfing my figure. Luckily, no other Deatheaters were present, though they will be soon at the sudden show of magic._

_The little girl gazes at me in fearful wonder, staring at my heightened form. I ignore her, focusing on the familiar feeling of Harry Potter._

_I feel him within me, his presence warm and inviting, much like the many nights I had spent in his be—_

_Stop it!_

_I shake my head, remembering with harsh clarity the day he had betrayed me. Bitterness forms from my tainted veins and I greedily drink the welcomed poison. The wound glows brightly in my soul, and I smile maliciously towards the girl._

"_Stay out of my mind, Potter, or I will show you more cruelty than you can imagine." I sneer out loud, the young child wrinkling her nose in confusion._

_I point my wand at her again, smirking widely as I replace the illusion upon myself. I shout the curse, closing the link that had somehow opened to Potter just as I hear the song of her dying scream in my ears-_

I scream with the child; a long, bloodied wail that tears viciously through my bruised throat and explodes from my chest. As soon as I calm down, I burrow myself in the fluffy comforts of the bleached bed. Madam Pomfrey rushes towards me, frantically checking my body for signs of illness. I let shameful tears drop onto the comforter, not even bothering to wipe them as McGonagall strides into the room with Professor Dumbledore in tow.

"What was all that ruckus about, Mr. Potter?" she says worriedly, holding a caring hand to my forehead.

"I-Draco..."

"Has the boy cursed you?" she interrupts, about to go on a tirade before Dumbledore stops her.

"Voldemort!" I gasp, "Voldemort knows Draco is my other Half."

The Headmaster sighs, his age finally showing at his wearied face. "He is training Mr. Malfoy, I assume?"

"No, Draco is doing it to himself," I whisper miserably, recalling the torture that Malfoy had forced upon his mind in order to harden himself for the final battle.

"Is he really willing to sacrifice himself for that monster?" Minerva demands crisply. "Slytherins only look out for themselv-"

"Minerva, please," Albus stops her again. "I will not tolerate biased opinions on our Houses."

I ignore their meaningless banter, lost in my disgusting cycle of self-hatred. "He knows he is going to die, but he doesn't care; he thinks it is his life's path."

That peaks McGonagall's interest and at her serious eyes, I continue, "I made the decision for him, Professor! I didn't mean to, but..." Before long, I had spilled the entire story to the two adults, the Transfigurations Professor dropping her wand at the story of my relationship with Malfoy. Albus sighs again, placing an aged hand upon my slumped shoulder.

"It is not your fault," he says determinately. "The young Malfoy could have still made the decision to gain protection from me-"

"No, you do not understand!" I cry. "He _counted_ on me! Draco trusted me with his entire being, and I let him down."

I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms protectively around them and wishing it was the hurt Malfoy I was holding instead. "He _gave_ himself to me, Professor; he had never believed in anyone enough to do that, and I proved him right!"

Albus pats me on the knee, nodding his bearded chin in confused pity and whispering a few more comforting words—which weren't comforting at all—before bidding me a good night. McGonagall had wandered off earlier due to her shock of hearing Harry Potter sleeping with Draco Malfoy and Madam Pomfrey was busy with...whatever medi-witches do.

I had no more visions after that, and though I was glad, a small part of me vainly wanted the feeling of Draco's presence again, regardless of the terror and cruelty I had seen through his mind.

Even knowing the crimes Malfoy had committed (and will continue committing)—more than enough to land him in Azkaban a hundred times over—I continued to wish for Easter vacation to be over, just so I could see him one last time before the final battle...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I dream, I dream of your lips,  
when I dream, I dream of your kiss,  
when I dream, I dream of your fists,

---------------------------------------------------------------------

My wish was granted all too soon. The first day after Easter vacation was over, I lock eyes with the Slytherin on the way to Potions. The young Malfoy was with Pansy and Blaise, all clutching their left arms in a suspicious manner. The blonde raises an eyebrow, daring me to say a word, but instead I smile sadly, reaching to touch the mind of my beloved blonde.

As I expected, he had shut the door firmly, blocking the connection indefinitely. At that moment, Ron walks past me, patting me awkwardly on the back in greeting before heading over to the Slytherins.

He ignores their stiff arms, asking how their vacations had gone in an innocent fashion before bending down to inform Malfoy of something private. A small rush of jealousy springs in my stomach as Draco turns towards the redhead and murmurs back, but I quell the disgusting emotion with a well-earned stomp of a boot.

I see Draco eye Ginny and he nods subtly to her, an acknowledgement of her apology. She blushes, turning back to talk quickly to Neville Longbottom before rushing to class. I had not seen Hermione since Easter, nor had I heard of her, but I doubt that she had apologized to Ron.

My thoughts were confirmed as she bounds up to me, wrapping me in a tight embrace and squealing about how much she missed me. I sense the atmosphere tense frigidly, and I push her away.

"'Mione, don't you feel sorry at all for what you have done?" I murmur into her ear. "Even Ginny has apologized."

"I can't help who I fall in love with, Harry," she reasonably whispers back as we walk to Potions. "And I can't help it if I can't return Ron's affections."

"Then stop being a hypocrite and trying to force me onto you!" I snap, my anger finally exploding from its patient depths. "Bloody hell, Hermione, what have you become?"

I hurriedly stomp away, ignoring her bewildered and hurt look. I knew I should not have acted in such a manner, but something had gone wrong with my friends, turning them into people I did not know anymore. Just when I thought I had changed, the entire world changed with me.

_I want to set it right; I want things back the way they used to be._

_I want you back._

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leave me bleeding on the bed,

see you right back here tomorrow, for the next round.  
Keep this scene inside your head,

as the bruises turn to yellow, and the swelling goes down.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I slice my arm with the dagger, gazing in fascination at how the gleaming edge easily pierced skin. It was different from casting spells, and the sensation of forcing pain on another was incredibly different.

To my surprise and delight, I felt numb. The pain was there, but in the form of a mild tingling sensation that lingers dully from my swollen wounds. I smile, putting my training into good use.

Staring at the mirror, I smirk at my reflection. Its shake its head sadly at me as I lap the trickling blood near my elbow, taunting it with my morbid show of self-mutilation. I chuckle again, wondering when I had become a masochist.

I close my narrowed eyes, forcing myself to remember the cruel laughter and terrified screams of the dozens of men, women, and children I had disposed of. I even managed to disgust my Housemates, earning a high reputation upon my Lord's army. He knew I was trustworthy, and the only one who could defeat Potter.

Who _will_ defeat Potter.

I think about the boy; a bittersweet memory of our happier times brushing across the boundaries of my mind. I efficiently crush the mental picture, delving further inside the wound that had been created just a few weeks before Easter. I wallow in the negative emotions, feeling oddly empty.

The time was almost up; the Dark Lord will be attacking soon. The plan was ready, and everything was set. I pick up the blade, absently drawing another well-placed cut onto my tainted arm. My Lord planned to begin training me a week before the battle, physically hardening my body and pushing my magic to its limits. I had accepted readily, my pride refusing to allow myself to die without displaying the full effects of my rabid curse.

Another scarlet ribbon floats lazily across the red welts of my arm; rose petals of the deepest red lying in blanketed snow of the purest white.

**No.**

The blade presses deeper and more of the sickening substance smears across the expanse of white flesh. This snow is not pure at all—it never could be, for it was corrupted; a sickening smudge of mottled copper-brown dirtied and tainted beyond repair. Across the ground of muddy sludge lay a field of rich green, separated by a large, gaping crevice.

His emerald eyes continue to plague me, reaching to me in my sleep and haunting me during the day. Sometimes I would catch the gold sheen of crisp wheat sparkling within its depths and other times I would see a flick of his dark hair, reminding me of how vibrant it was against my own.

I close my eyes again, slanting the sharpened object as I rip it from the sinful limb with a flourish. My reflection wails at me to stop and I snarl at it to go away. It refuses, lingering in my presence and pounding on the glass boundary that separates us. Irritation blossoms in my pained stomach, and I slam my slippery palm onto the stainless surface.

_Fine!_

"I still love him. I, Draco Malfoy, still love Harry Potter."

_I said it, now be gone._

The reflection ignores my compromising confession and I fling my crimson weapon at it in frustration. The mirror snaps upon impact, a small crack now staining its smooth surface. I raise my wand to cast _'Reparo!'_ but stop mid-motion, looking at the shocked reflection in front of me. I could not tell if it was my real face or the one that the mirror merely showed.

I see a thin, gaunt boy with hallowed eyes and a grim smile. Dull, white-blond hair seems to be carelessly placed and a thin arm pulses with a brown, sticky mess. Behind the blooming reflection I could see Potter, his wonderful arms wrapping around my haunted frame, telling me everything was all right.

I hiss between my teeth, looking for other ways to mutilate myself. Finally, I decide upon mental torture; Harry Potter is going to receive a letter. I somberly sit down in my bloodied desk, casting a quick cleaning charm before pulling out some parchment and a quill, ready to scribble my thoughts. I ignore the sullen twinges of my wounded limb, growling as blood dirtied the paper.

_Everything I touch grows tainted; just like me, _I think madly, scrubbing in vain at the fresh splotch with my robe. The bright red drop smears beautifully with the wet ink, forming a mottled, purple, bruise-like blob on the paper. I ignore it, resuming the letter as my sanity continues dwindling. I write as a mad man would, frantically crossing out and slashing words away before forcing myself to write again, scrawling in a speed that my hand could not handle. Now tears blot my vision and I blink them away; Malfoys do not cry!

Yet they come and forcefully mix with the purple of the bloodied ink, turning some dull grey—the color of my eyes now—when it flushed into the wet words, and turning others into hues of pink, littering scarlet blossoms onto the field of black and purple and grey.

Halfway through, I begin to laugh; I laugh at my cowardice and at the stubborn shaking of my hands. I run my tainted hands through my hair, so close to my corrupted mind and I hysterically laugh again.

_No, Draco Malfoy is not on the verge of a breakdown; he is transforming into a better tool._

_Get out all these nasty emotions,_ I gleefully croon, _then you can fulfill your mission with ease._

I hand the owl my letter with wavering arms. "Take it," I tell it harshly, pushing at its tiny body. "Take it to my other Half; you know who he is." I cackle again, stumbling past the window and falling gracelessly onto my bed. My tired eyes collapse and my mind expires as I feel my mouth moving rhythmically, and a sound protrudes from my throat.

The fading darkness falls upon my tired cheek and in its midst I hear my own voice, clear like it hasn't been before Easter.

"_I love you, Potter."

* * *

_

**AN: **-Tears at hair- This is the chapter that I've been forced to re-read and edit the most, and revising long chapters are really mind-sapping! Not to mention it takes me quite a while since it's too tiring to edit the entire chapter in one go...rawr! But I survived! Bwahahah! Anyway, the next chapter is going to be an important one! It'll certainly be darker than this chapter as this chapter was a _lot_ less angsty than I thought it would be, please look forward to it!

**PS:** Erk, I think I made it a little too lovey dovey in this chapter D: "I love you, Harry!" "I love you, Draco! BUT WE CAN'T BE TOGETHER! DON'T YOU HATE CLICHES!" -.-; This kills me, it really does : (

**PS (Poll! Sorta...):** Should I kill off Hermione? I'm quite tempted, but perhaps I could make things more interesting if she was left alive...

**PS: **Has anyone ever read the novel "As Meat Loves Salt"? I love the book to pieces (although the ending is a bit too confusing and tragic for my taste), and I snuck a line from it into the chapter! Anyone find it? ;D

**Next Chapter:** The final battle approaches! Is it really the final battle? Will Harry and Draco die tragically? It might be a shorter chapter since I want to devote it solely on the battle, but narf, who knows :D

**Shoutouts:**

_Chocola Emo Shizzle:_ Haha, I _totally_ agree with you on the whole "take your time" thing. Sometimes, I read chapters where the authors are like 'Yea it took me 15 minutes to write" and I'm just like "WHAT? DID YOU EVEN EDIT THIS THING?" And pfft, I love long reviews (and rambles), so ramble away! –many hearts-

_Ambroisine:_ I agree, crying Draco is just...-snatches Draco from Harry and runs away- XD Unfortunately, Harry's not very sweet in this chapter, is he? –kicks Harry in the bum- Rawr. And ooh, Itaike na Shizuku is wonderful : ) I remember those good ol' times of spending hours searching google for Harry Potter doujinshi...(Actually I still do that, aren't I a nerd? XD)

_Ater Phasma:_ Things went from wrong...to worse! –runs from Ater Phasma's wrath- But whaaaaat! I was so looking forward to your ficcie : ( I understand on the plot bunnies though, I've written like eight other mini-outlines for future stories –falls over- they're _so_ tempting -.-! Rawr, too bad the "something wrong" went from bad to...way worse o.o and next chapter isn't going to be much fun either, I think –scritches head- I'm still deciding on the ending of the battle, actually XD; too many clichés to battle through D:

_Mirokuluver's Friend:_ Indeed, lots of stuff going on XD I hope I updated this quickly? When I saw all you wonderful reviewers leaving long reviews I was like "O.O INSPIRATION!" Haha, but yea, hope you enjoyed this chapter, even if it's somewhat dark -.-;

_Mou: _Updated! And indeed, you were right on the bull's eye : ( Don't worry! Things will get better (maybe)! A little angst never hurt? (Ok so it's going to be a lot of angst...) –glooms in a corner-

_Miss brownie:_ I was tempted to put a love-love relationship, but the Draco in this story doesn't seem easy to love, ya think: ) Besides, I love realistic stories, and I'm glad you like mine! XD As for the weather here...it's incredibly hot in California right now, but I'm stuck indoors because I just got my wisdom teeth out : ( It's too embarrassing to go outside! XD Hope you're faring better than I am! –hearts-

_DMswissmissHG:_ Oh haha, wonder why the review thingie got messed up the first time! To be honest, I'm a bit worried about this chapter, because this really puts Hermione in a bad position and you seem like a DMHG type of person (must have something to do with your name... XD ) so...eeps! I don't think it'll get much worse than this though, as I had originally planned for Hermione to be a good chara (but clichés made me rethink my decision!) Hope your opinion stays the same even after this chapter!

_iNsAnE nO bAkA:_ Hahaha, I was chuckling like an idiot while reading your review : ) Glad you really liked my last chapter, but too bad stubborn ol' Draco's making things worse! Rawr! However, bear with me, I'll make things better! (Maybe) ;D

_Speechless Question:_ Haha, yea, I'm actually really glad you caught that whole "from tool to human" thing : ) I really tried to emphasize it, after all x.x; and yesh...this chapter was very ominous indeed...however, the next chapter will probably be worse (unfortunately) so be warned! Don't worry, it'll still have some Draco/Harry scenes though, as this one did not D: (I'm a bit mad at myself for that, actually! –grumbles-)

_Dragenphly_: Ooh, neat name o.o I like your spelling for it : ) Bwahaha, Hermione was indeed a "stupid bint" XD; However, as evil as I am for writing this chapter, there is _no_ way I'd _ever_ let Harry fall for anyone other than Draco, so rest assured! And cheating on him is even worse! Call me old fashioned, but if I ever wrote a story like that, it'd _definitely_ be tragedy...(though I'm kinda tempted to write one now...XD)

_Chaola:_ Wee! It makes me happy when people stumble on my stories XD; I love stories with good development and realistic situations, so I try very hard to work with those in mine : ) Glad my hard work paid off! Hope you enjoyed this chapter?

_Miss G:_ Haha, well, you've got your quick update! Even I astounded myself by just typing on the computer screen the whole day! Heck, I feel like a professional computer programmer or something! XD The final battle is _definitely_ going to be next chapter, so look forward to it!

_Te:_ dun dun dun! Oh my gosh, Harry snogging Hermione, the horror –shivers- I unwittingly stumbled upon a doujinshi where Harry was doing that and I just _died_. It was horrible; I'm traumatized for life ;-;0

_GREMLIN:_ Eeps! All I got from your review was "E I" o.o; strange things, those review box thingies...mind reviewing again with your original comment? (If you remember it x.x) I feel so bad when I can't read the reviews ;-;

_Moonylovesme:_ I know what you mean about those first person thingies! I was a bit worried when I first started, so I'm really glad it worked out: ) And do not worry, I'm going to type like a madwoman and finish this before I go to college! (or at least I'll try really, really hard!)

_Crystal Malfoy:_ Of course I remember you: ) weee, I absolutely must agree: Harry saying 'I love you' is very swoon-worthy ;D As for the betrayal...well, I guess Hermione sorta betrayed Harry, though I was trying to aim for Harry betraying Draco and Ron (somewhat -.-) And Colin's photos...more on him in the next upcoming chapters...suspense! Bwahahah! Thanks for the fanfic advise btw, I'll check that out right after I'm done editing this chapter –cheers-

_Hahukum Konn:_ The very first time I saw inner dialogue on some HPDM fanfic long ago, I was blown away. Glad you like mine ;D (it's tricky trying to keep everything natural sounding sometimes!)

_Haunted Emerald Depths:_ Rawr, I certainly enjoyed writing Harry and Draco's sessions ;D It's like writing out my hidden HarryDraco fantasy (or maybe it is?) –starry eyes- As for Ginny...that is a bloody brilliant idea! To be honest, I'm quite tempted to use it; it really is a wonderful way to kill off Hermione (if needed) ;o I hope you enjoy this chapter, anyway :) it seems a bit cliched (perhaps I'm paranoid?), but you tell me what you think:D Oh, and you have a beautiful name, by the way, it reminds me of Harry's eyes ; )

_MelissaSue:_ Glad you're excited! –jumps up and down- Hope you're still pumped up after this chapter? XD

_Pink–xXx-Kiss: _The plot explodes! -drools with Pink-xXx-Kiss over the thought of a please with "Harry and Draco on top"- Although I do prefer Draco on bottom...-laughs at bad joke- I'm hopeless XD;


	11. The Final Battle

**A/N:** In Draco's letter, the parts which are all weird like "tha-ther-this" means that Draco scribbled out the previous words and filled in with the last one.

**PS:** For those of you confused by Hermione's "noxious gas spell thingie," I have revised Chapter 10 and hopefully it is now more understanding. –Kicks my crappy talent at subtle symbolism- D:

**PS:** The song is by Placebo, called "Song to Say Goodbye".

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**The Prophecy:** Dark encounters light, either canceling existence or blending into dusk; destroying prophecies or completing fate.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco dwell behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Masquerade – The Final Battle**

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are one of God's mistakes,  
You crying, tragic waste of skin,  
I'm well aware of how it aches,  
And you still won't let me in.  
Now I'm breaking down your door,  
To try and save your swollen face,  
Though I don't like you anymore,  
You lying, trying waste of space.

--------------------------------------------------------------

_**I hate you.**_

_I hate you so much I cannot possibly describe it in words. I hate the massive pain that burns my every being whenever I think of the times we've had together. Before everything happened, before I had the Dark Mark branded into my arm—before I met you, I was happily living my life without doubt. _

_Look what you made me into. _

_Are you happy now? Your gaze plasters itself upon me whenever I see you in the halls, whenever I meet you in class. What should I think? For some time I believed that I had understood you; that I had come to lo-lik—that I knew you. _

_But now I hate you._

_I have fallen into a terrible error, and only now am I able to atone for my sins. Perhaps by following the path destined to me I can make up for at least a minute part of my callous trials. Whenever I think of that whor-Hermi-Mudbloo-Granger's trick of coveting you from me, I wonder if I had ever truly had you at all. _

_What happened to me?_

_I was the cowardly Deatheater's son, willing to bow down and lick the disgusting shoes of Vo-my Lord. Then you came along, drowning me with your Darkness and surrounding me with your Light. I spend my nights in cruel oblivion, your presence forever staining my deepest sleep. _

_The girl had come to you when I was gone, enticing you with her femininity. Why had you not raised a finger in objection, if you were so truly devoted to me? Where had the Harry Potter I once knew gone? My Harry was dark; a man who had faced too many obstacles, stripped of his childhood and forced into a destiny he did not want. My Harry was evil, yet he retained his presence as a pillar of support. _

_Where is my Harry?_

_You, Potter, are a fledgling who has lost his mother, forever floundering foolishly between water and land, unable to decide for yourself. You had obviously doubted your fraudulent love for me, an eager part of you wanting to feel the embrace of a woman. Your muddled mind quickly disregarded your—what was it you called?—your _lover_ for a momentary experience. _

_How can you have the heart to stand by and see it done? Give me a reason, Potter._

_**I hate you.**_

_Were this sent to Luc-my Father, he would immediately take the life of his own flesh and blood. That is, if he could. Nay, he'd present my traitorous soul to the Dar-to my Lord, asking him to torture me by ripping off my limbs one by one, severing the head and leaving it still with life, pierced upon the spike of rebellion._

_Are you ready for battle?_

_The day is quickly approaching, and Voldemort has expressed his wishes to train me well. I will not die a fool, Potter; I will die knowing I had followed my fate to the very last second, putting my all into destroying you. I admit, you had me fooled with your petty words, your seductive glances, and your indulgent lies. _

_Back then I think I might have lov-lik—I might have felt something for you._

_You had me wrapped in the heavy cloak of deception, believing that you could protect me from the fate I had been forced into. I believed that I could return the favor, blocking the hateful lies and fake admiration your peers had directed towards you. If I knew you enjoyed those fraudulent comforts, if I knew you so easily doubted yourself, I would have let go._

_But I had not known._

_There are so many "If"s and "Why"s, but all that remains is the truth. I will find you, Potter, and I will fight you. I will inflict as much pain as I can before relinquishing my soul for the greater good. You are my goal; the ending I strive to attain. I will do anything to achieve this and I have already done so, preparing my mental health and strengthening myself physically (as you have seen through my own eyes). All I have left is to extend my magic to its greatest limits—No, I have one more demand:_

_**I hate you.**_

_Which is why I want you to train. Yes, train well, Potter, and become strong. Force yourself to the limits, spend nights staying awake memorizing spells for battle. I will not be an easy kill, nor do I want an easy victim. I want a true fight with a sincere opponent; someone worthy of taking my finalt breath. This is my last wish, Potter._

_Grant me this one favor, if you had ever experienced an inkling of the happiness I had once felt with you._

_Grant me this one hope, this one last hope._

_Draco Malfoy._

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before our innocence was lost,  
You were always one of those,  
Blessed with lucky sevens,  
And the voice that made me cry.  
My, oh my.

-------------------------------------------------------------

I stand ready in the front line of Hogwarts as the first wave of Deatheaters come rushing at us, a mere group of courageous students and professors. The Dark army outnumbers us by almost thrice the amount, and the thought of winning the battle was a miracle within the minds of the many that stand around me. Most of the younger years and unwilling students had already been sent home, leaving only a few behind when the floo network was abruptly blocked from the rest of the world.

The brave soldiers, my peers and instructors, race towards the storm wielding weapons of destruction upon their fierce lips and determined fingers. I watch the first Deatheater fall, and the first student—a brave Ravenclaw—become obliterated by the first hex. I close my eyes and take off my spectacles, heaving a sigh and releasing my illusion; my powers increase and a few gasps were emitted by those that were near me.

I flicker gold-green eyes toward the nearest enemy, my serious glowing orbs forcing him to flinch as I whisper the incantation to him, putting him out of his misery. Beside me stands Ron, his calm, stoic persona in battle a vast contrast from the hotheaded boy of past. His hex flings the mask off a Deatheater, revealing Theodore Nott, a boy he used to converse with before Easter vacation.

Without pause, Ron finishes the Slytherin, closing his eyes for the briefest second in apologetic regret, and I am reminded of the many sacrifices we are forced to make. Losing Draco and my life seems infuriatingly small compared to the world, and I force my way through the Darkness with renewed vigor. I will die knowing that I had taken down Voldemort's greatest weapon, and I will pass the "hero torch" to everyone fighting for the Light.

_Work together to defeat the demon; you do not need a mere boy. I am but a joke._

The number of students willing to fight astounded me. For example, Hermione had avoided me since my abrupt temper tantrum and I had not expected her to fight for my sake, but here she was, ferociously struggling somewhere amongst the gore and the bloodshed. I turn towards my next enemy, the burn in my eyes seeming as strong as the '_Incendio!'_ I just cast.

Today was the day.

As in my vision, Draco will come, killing many of his schoolmates on his journey to the appointed destination—to me. He had disappeared a week ago and rumors of his crossing to the Dark side are now obvious facts. I fling myself across the crimson earth, pushing a Hufflepuff away from an Unforgivable. Tears streak her cheeks as she raises haunted eyes towards mine. I growl, whipping around and blasting her attacker before shielding myself from another.

In preparation for this battle, Snape had taught me well. He was the one who trained me for nights without end and pushed me past my limits, pushed until I lay unconscious on the floor. Today, the greasy Professor looks grim and tired, his composed figure tainted by subtle shivering as he joins me in battle, exposing his true loyalties.

"_Why are you training the future murderer of your godson?"_ _I asked him one day, peering past the thick book of spells. The Potions Professor sighed, staring into my own eyes with unwavering calmness._

"_And why are you, Mr. Potter, training to destroy the one you love?"_

_  
I looked down, unable to keep my gaze. "Because that was what he wanted," I whispered." He wants to end his life meaningfully with a sincere rival."_

_Severus nodded, placing a pale hand on my tense shoulders in a rare act of support. "And who am I to deny him of his last demand?"_

My head instinctively swivels north, dodging a Deatheater's curse with practiced ease. A magic similar to my own, both in power and sense, slowly wafts closer to my eager nose.

_He is coming._

I run towards the second wave of destruction, snarling and leaping with inhuman ferocity. Burying my clawed hand inside an enemy's body, I violently pull out his bleeding heart and quickly hex the other to my right. I had never liked killing; in fact, the sight of blood used to traumatize me along with the feelings of guilt which would plague me for weeks...but I had changed.

_Just like he has._

It was almost ironic, the way the sunny skies shined with lazy, pure clouds above the dark, bloody scene that one calls a battlefield. The rays sparkle blindingly against the blood smeared across dirt and flesh, mocking our painful existence. I kneel down, pausing to close the glazed eyes of Anthony Goldstein.

_Yet another sacrifice._

The numbers were piling and the Deatheaters continue to descend wave upon wave, crashing violently against the shaky cliff that our mere bodies formed in defense. A shout fills my ear and I turn around, ducking to avoid a wild curse. Justin Finch-Fletchley stares with horrified eyes at the unmasked Deatheater, Marietta Edgecombe.

"No," he whispers, wand-arm dangling limply at his side. "_Why?_"

The female Deatheater looks equally distraught, head shaking subtly as she slowly raises her wand. "I'm sorry," she cries miserably. "_Diffindo!"_

I scream a warning, raising a "_Protego!"_ towards the shocked boy. The spell rebounds, flinging itself back into the stunned face of caster. Justin wails as the Ravenclaw's body tears itself in half and I run over to the fallen boy. He clutches at her lifeless hand, refusing to let go as I coax him to run back to shelter. After some precious time, the boy finally agrees, tearfully looking back at his fallen schoolmate one last time before stumbling towards the hulking castle known as Hogwarts.

_How long must this go on?_

The death count grows higher, our side losing due to the sheer mass of the enemy. A third and fourth wave had passed, and it was in the midst of dueling the fifth that He came. The magic was strong, rolling off the two figures in an endless tsunami as they walked grimly, smoothly, and ever so surrealistic across the barren ash. They were two phantasmagoric shadows, approaching the center of the battlefield without moment's hesitation.

Corpses lie littered around the hollow ground, splayed frighteningly similar to scattered leaves on a musky autumn evening. The world around me is in chaos, as are the people raging against each other in the whirling background. I duck absently as a curse flies my way, rolling around and hexing back blindly in return. Voldemort resides in the middle of the fray, cackling with his disgustingly sharp teeth and beady eyes as he destroys my allies with ferocious curses, leaving them bloody and mutilated beyond recognition.

Behind him, my heart clenches as I notice the slender, cloaked figure he is protectively defending. However, the figure obviously needed no protection; he had a shield of solid ice permanently present to block all charms and physical weapons around him. In addition, those who attempted to get near would immediately perish, screaming in a voice more horrid than all the others on the battleground combined.

Watching the figure makes my blood boil in static anticipation, and I feel my own spherical shield of solid wind howling its presence into my ear. Deatheaters and curses alike ricochet off my defense, the few brittle leaves that lie within the shell slicing the more offensive opponents to pieces. I near Voldemort and he pauses, sensing my presence. The air freezes around me, dropping into arctic degrees as my wild breeze spreads the contagious ice into the atmosphere. Everything goes silent save my own anxious breathing and Voldemort's smug hiss.

The bloody bastard raises his wand, whispering an obviously futile charm my way. Taking his bait, I respond with a curse, the deadly spell flying quickly towards its target. The cowardly menace laughs and apparates, leaving the residual charm still floating towards the remaining cloaked figure. My breath hitches and the spell misses by a hair.

_It's him._

Knowing that I currently sport a wondrous and apprehensive look on my bewildered face, the figure continues to say nothing, stepping forward to greet me instead. Robes ghost gracefully over the battlefield, slithering over the rotten corpses as if there were nothing there. A gleaming hand bearing a familiar crested ring—no, this ring was free of illusion charms—reaches from within the folds of fabric, stretching towards me as if in a silent plea. I stare dumbly as the hand drops and retracts into its pockets, serenely lifting a slender wand.

A musical voice began to whisper a hypnotic incantation and to my utmost horror, a single lock of platinum blonde hair drifts softly into the dusty light-

**He is here.**

"Draco!" I gasp weakly as he magically waves the hood from his gaunt face. The week had done no good to him, filling him with power but depleting him of necessary nutrients.

Another hex reflects from his ice blue defense, and his swirling gold-grey eyes stare into mine.

"Haven't I told you never to say my name, Potter?"

"Dra-Malfoy, I-I missed you," I pathetically stutter, all traces of my initial cool slaughtered by the foreboding presence. The Slytherin sneers, losing his own dispassionate exterior for a moment's time.

"You've read my letter, have you not?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were mother nature's son,  
Someone to whom I could relate,  
Your needle and your damage done,  
Remains a sorted twist of fate.  
Now I'm trying to wake you up,  
To pull you from the liquid sky,  
Coz if I don't we'll both end up,  
With just your song to say goodbye.  
My, oh my.

--------------------------------------------------------

_Yet another sleepless night; another dreadful breath. _

_I, Harry Potter, supposed sodding savior of the entire blooming world, leaned back into the prison one calls a bed. I clutched a rumpled letter in my trembling hand as I shook within the confines of the harsh blankets. I had received the parchment soon after Draco Malfoy was reported missing._

_I knew he had gone to Voldemort._

_Everyone had looked upon the morbid paper with curiosity, expecting their morose, sodding hero to tell them what it was about. I glared at them, stuffing the letter into my robes and stalking away as they blinked in surprise. _

_I said nothing that day, ignoring the student's persistent questions and "Are you all right?"s. It was just like Draco to make a dramatic exit; the letter was far too stiff and yellowed, covered in a collage of pinks and reds and purples and browns and blacks. Everyone and their Uncle Bob could see there was something bloody wrong about the envelope, but I'd sooner face Tom Riddle in nothing but Ginny's knickers rather than tell them about it._

_Soon enough, the day had passed, and I had still not yet opened the mysterious parchment. I could not bear the thought of what it contained. Just the thought of pulling at the folds of the paper tortured my mind; it filled my overburdened imagination with horrific thoughts of what a Malfoy would write into the letter. A heartfelt apology? Likely not. A romantic love letter? Absolutely sickening. Whatever else, I had felt much too intimidated to open the bloody letter._

_Until now._

_With the curtains spelled shut and the 'Lumos' glowing unwaveringly on my wand, I slowly uncovered the parchment and smoothed out the infinite wrinkles. To my surprise, the stiffness of the paper came from the remains of tears, and the curious copper red stains seemed to be blood. _

_I read the letter thrice, stopping only when my own flurry of salty liquids blurred the words into hailing grey snowballs amidst the blank canvas. I did not know what to make of Draco's words; I did not know whether to feel shocked, scandalized, proud, or depressed._

_However, I knew one thing. I would take Draco's offer and grant him his request. I too did not want to end my bloody life without achieving the maximum limits. I wanted to die strong, knowing that I had tried my best. It would be the highest honor for a fraud like me to die as a true warrior in battle, gasping my last breath when I could no longer lift a finger to fight._

_I knew that Draco wanted this too._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

A song to say goodbye,  
A song to say goodbye,  
A song to say...

----------------------------------------------------------

I smile calmly at my previous lover—if he could be called that. "I've grown stronger for you," I tell him, and he rewards me with a gratuitous smirk.

"_Malfoy_?" an incredulous cry comes from my right, and both Halves turn to face the source of sound. Ronald Weasley gapes at the both of us, dead Deatheater lying forgotten in his hand. Others around him also stop, giving us the same stare as frantic whispers quickly spread across the battleground.

"Did they always look like that?"

"Is that really Malfoy?"

"What potion did they take?"

"What _are_ they?"

Malfoy soaks up the spectator's attentions, sneering into each of their curious eyes. He smirks woefully into Ron's face as the redhead, with tears in his clear, blue eyes, raises a wand into the face of the blonde Slytherin.

"As much as I fancy death by you, my dear friend," the Deatheater responds to the trembling redhead. "I already have an appointment with Harry Potter."

The curse flies mercilessly through the air just as Malfoy strides closer to me, his shield colliding forcefully with my own. The two forces intermingle, fusing into a giant sphere around the both of us. Weasley's spell bounces off the transparent ice bubble and the green wind blowing angrily around the arctic shield whips the hex back into the field, taking down a random enemy.

A Deatheater charges into our enlarged shield, swearing as he watches his hand fly off his arm. Another enemy manages to block the wind, punching the indestructible ice with her arm. She screams, pushing herself back as the cold burns through her, and her ashes blow desperately into the skies, mixing with the rotten fumes of war.

Draco stares at me, his head tilted to one side as he contemplates his decision. "We can either make this quick and kill each other, or we can take the long route," he muses with nonchalant amusement.

"The long route," I immediately tell him," I'm curious as to how strong you've grown."

"Much stronger than you," he smirks back. "Anger and revenge are brutal slave drivers. _Impedimenta!"_

"_Diffindo!"_

"Potter, you really are set on my death," Malfoy acknowledges, easily dodging my spell. I growl smugly, leaping onto him and tackling him to the cracked ground.

"I'm only doing what you told me to do," I whisper to the fallen Slytherin. He grunts, hexing me away from his body.

"Using brute force, how plebeian. _Incendio!_"

"Getting serious now, Malfoy? _Petrificus totalus!"_

He jumps forward, slipping in close and gashing my face with his delicate, sharpened nails. A stinging sensation burns like wildfire across my cheek and specks of red drop onto my shoulder.

"First blood," the Slytherin proudly declares, raising a challenging brow at me. "You're not the only one who plays dirty."

I laugh harshly, turning from a well-placed hex and casting another in return. We continue our intense dance in peace, forgetting of the chaos and pain outside our physical barricade. Like a representation of our everyday fraudulent shells, the swirling shield of blue and green bars anyone from looking in, save a few sparks and flashes of curses and spells. We had willingly locked ourselves in a masquerade, the ball ending only when we choose to.

**It was our Masquerade.**

"_Crucio!"_

The spell whistles past my ear, splashing onto the frozen inner shell. I stare back at the Malfoy with wide eyes. "You really meant that!"

"Of course, Potter," Draco drawls. "A Malfoy never does anything half-arsed." I marvel at his blank, yet regal face during battle, his stoic eyes flickering in a sudden show of amusement and excitement as I cast yet another curse towards him.

We clash together, breaking apart again. I can see Draco assessing my health from a distance. His eyes travel down my worn body, taking in the gashed face, bleeding lip, and the way I moved as if I had several ribs broken.

_At least four, no doubt._

I scrutinize him in turn, taking in his broken left arm, his pronounced limp as he cringes and holds his aching stomach.

_The punch to his gut was quite satisfactory._

I suddenly pounce him before he can move, our bodies rolling around the ground as our wands scuttle haphazardly across the dirt. Resisting the urge to purr, I lean against the familiar body, clawed fingers trailing across his smooth cheek. Running my bruised hand up through his ruffled long hair and contentedly feeling his ragged breath across my dry, bloody lips, I smile, dragging a final nail along his porcelain face. A jagged cut of crimson forms on his side, a scarlet stream flowing in small rivulets down his neck.

A deep emotion of complete satisfaction and warmth swells in my belly, and a whimper from the Slytherin tells me that he feels the same. "It is time, my love," I whisper closely to his ear, wincing painfully as he savagely bites my vulnerable neck. I pull away, willing myself to remember everything about the pale boy beneath me.

I will always remember his thin, soft lips, the way his blonde hair fans the blood-drenched ground, the way the gold of his eyes melt into mine. I will never forget how his body molds perfectly to my own, the warmth emanating into my very bones. I dive in for a deep kiss, the taste of his blood mixing sweetly with mine. Draco pushes against me, claiming top for a second as our tears mingle and trail down both our cheeks. I shove my way back to the top, desperately clutching at the blonde's robes and relishing the way his tongue moves in my mouth, the way his slender fingers run frantically through my tousled hair.

I reluctantly part from the Deatheater, grinning slowly as he violently propels me away. He has an annoyed look on his pointed features, eyebrows furrowed to cover his apparent comfort with our shared kiss. Almost on instinct, we stand at the same time, facing each other determinately.

Hands mechanically rise, wavering at each other free of wands. Gold-grey swirls into gold-green, and green-gold twinkles merrily at grey-gold. _Are you ready?_ Says the first. _Only if you are._ The second replies. Lips move coordinately, words and tones matching and both tongues swirling the exact same pronunciations.

"_Avada Kedavra."_

The familiar green lights burst forth from our hands, racing towards the other in a speeding frenzy. They collide head on, exploding into a sudden surge of blinding white and forming a growing sphere of brilliant light. The brightness washes over me and I smile widely into the gaping cavern of imminent death.

It was unbearably bright, like looking into the sun on a clear summer day, yet it was strangely peaceful. The magic coaxes me forward and I stumble willingly in the ordered direction, stopping only when I bump into another body.

_Mine._

I fall, collapsing with the other presence as we both drown blissfully into the never ending abyss of snowy white. Like exploding fireworks of blank color, like twinkling stars and the bright, bright moon, it swims around us, suffocating us with its very essence.

_It was a glorious day to die._

There was brightness and light wherever I looked even though I had my eyes closed. I could ramble about the illumination for hours on end and...

**Darkness.**

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before our innocence was lost,  
You were always one of those,  
Blessed with lucky sevens,  
And the voice that made me cry.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Several screams were issued from various people on the battleground as identical green lights burst inside the globe.

"It's Avada Kedavra!" a girl shrieks.

_Who will be the victor?_

The lights suddenly merge, turning into a bright, expanding bubble of white. The frosty ice suddenly sparkles brilliantly, glowing like an excited _Lumos!_ on a dark winter night. The magic forces the shields to expand and suddenly, the infinite beauty was not so harmless anymore.

The shield crashes into various beings on the field, each individual shrieking in pain before burning into ashes upon contact.

"Run while you can!" the Deatheaters scream, turning tail and fleeing from the deadly bubble. Students and teachers alike run as well, pumping their battle-trained legs furiously from the advancing gleaming ball.

The shield expands faster and larger, consuming the entire area in mere minutes. Moments later, it abruptly collapses on itself, shrinking back and leaving nothing in its wake. The field was empty of both corpses and live bodies, save for wispy ashes fluttering in the dusty wind.

It was a sandstorm which swept morosely across the deadened desert, empty of all inhabitants except for two immobile figures. They were entwined together, legs over legs and arms around each other's cold bodies. Small, identical smiles grace both their faces and the shield around them pulses madly, swirling in its frenzied craze.

Harry Potter slowly opens his eyes, staring into the face of his battle partner. Draco Malfoy also awakens, calmly gazing back with his dispassionate, cold orbs. The brunette gently brushes the blood off the Deatheater's face, and the pale one slowly uses all of his strength to nuzzle the hand of his beloved. Never taking their eyes off the other, they continue gazing at their Half even as their golden orbs begin to dim and their vision begins to fade.

Only do their eyes close when they share their last breath, exhaling each other's scent and falling blissfully into the sweet, black oblivion.

"_Well fought, Potter, well fought."_

"_I'll see you on the other side, Draco. Think we'll be happy then?"_

"_Shut up and go to sleep."_

A chuckle._ "We have eternity for that, my love."_

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

It's a song to say goodbye.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

**AN:** Shocked? Don't worry, this _isn't _the end! Should I repeat that? **_This is not the ending!_** There. Hmm, and no, it's not _almost_ the ending either. I've got a long way to go, and I _would_ get a lot of flames if I just leave the story like this! –cringes at the thought- No fears, I've got a detailed outline of the next chapter and it won't be a short, dinky chapter like this one!

**Next Chapter:** What is there in the next chapter? After all, Harry and Draco are _dead_! Well, why don't you just wait and see what happens? Also, find out what happens to Ron and Hermione after the war...did they even survive? Did Voldemort really end up ruling the world? Too many questions, argh!

**Shoutouts:**

_OtShades:_ -Pats QtShades on the back- It'll get better, I promise! Maybe...-glances around with shifty eyes- Rawr, next chapter you'll see what I mean ;D

_Ater Phasma:_ Eep! –Hospitalized after so much bapping- I sort of fixed it! The only problem is that they're dead! XD; –glances up fearfully- Rawr, but after all this angsting, it'll get lots better...HPDM-wise anyway ;D

_Pink-xXx-Kiss:_ Yea, my original intention was to make Hermione a super nice-supportive chara, but I guess I read one too many of those fics and decided Ron needed some spotlight XD; I rather like your theory on Hermione, I'll see what I can do ;D

_Crystal Malfoy:_ Haha, yea, both Harry and Draco are stupid little twats at the moment, but then again, people in love do many stupid things...(I know I did!) After I finished writing the last chapter, I was tempted to give the two a good knocking with the Hammer of Common Sense myself!

_Mirokuluver's Friend:_ Hahahaha, "politely" demanding...XD; You are such an awesome reviewer : ) I have to agree though, Harry's becoming a little too soft D: And Draco's too whiny x.O; The next chapters after this are going to be character-strengthening ones though, so don't worry :) Everything after the Ultimate Battle will be better, Harry/Draco-wise anyway ;D

_MelissaSue:_ I could just imagine Draco wearing a little crown, ordering Harry to chop Hermione's head off XD Man, if I was writing a humor fic, I would pounce on your idea and use it right off the bat!

_Sweetlildevil512: _I'm not thinking of letting it end so easily yet, so have no fear :) Harry and Draco will live happily ever after in a little house surrounded by a white picket fence...or not -sweatdrops- BUT it won't be so bad, trust me ;D

_Crystal Malfoy:_ I shall update soon! (Is this considered soon? O.o) I hope this chapter lifted your spirits...somewhat (at the end, anyway x.x)

_IIshadowmakerII: _Updated! –Hustles and bustles- :D

_Ambroisine:_ Nuu! –grabs hold of Ambroisine- you're one of my most beloved reviewers, don't ditch me! –puppy eyes- After all this, the chapters won't be as angsty, really. It'll be more...frustrating, as are most "coming out" novels o.o; Also, have you read Dear Feelings (also known as Doki Doki), perchance? It's sorta like the prologue of Tactics and Love Song—I just finished it and it's like...-falls over with the happy artwork-

_Mou:_ Rawr, I see the last chapter was a bit confusing for ya x.x; I must admit I was a bit worried about it as well. Okay so **first**, Draco blames Harry because Harry was being stupid and not immediately rejecting 'Mione's advances (Hermione would have smooched him if no one interfered), not to mention Draco put his complete faith in Harry, only to see Harry unable to defend himself (making him unreliable and weak...which results in destroying Draco's trust) Honestly, who wants a lover who can't even reject the advances of others? (I'd want them to yell at the spiteful vixen, or at least support me as _I_ yell at them!) **Secondly**, Harry couldn't do anything during Easter Break. Draco isn't showing him the acts on purpose; Harry just sees them by accident. Harry can't call the Aurors because he is completely immersed in the vision, making him unable to move...not to mention the visions are going on at the exact same moment Harry is seeing them. Lastly, the Professors know nothing of Harry's problem (all he told was his dream to Dumbledore). McGonagall found out the last of Harry's vision and by then it was too late. **Third**, as bad as Hermione is, she's still his friend. Harry was putting up with her, hoping that she would stop hitting on him (Ha, fat chance.) Of course, Harry finally got the point and snarled at her near the end. :o **Fourth,** the gas was just bad symbolism on my part, I suppose. It symbolizes Harry becoming manipulated by Hermione's words. I mean, think about it, a boy who's never been in a relationship suddenly thinks he is in love. That can be easily doubted with mere words, which Hermione was relying upon. People are easily swayed, especially when they have no experience. However, I rather think that confuses people...so I'll most likely revise that part and make it more...evident o.o; **Lastly**, I made all the characters as human as possible (rather than clear and concise personalities). Humans make mistakes through irrational thoughts all the time, and though confusing, that's what happens in relationships, don't they? Or at least mine did...after all, that sort of argument happened over a year ago in my life, and to be honest...it still hurts. A lot. I hope that cleared some things up for you? If not, please, ask again and I'll try to clarify more x.x; I tried not to type _too _much asI feel like I'm writing an essay response! XD;

_DMswissmissHG_: Haha, ooooh okay, so I can tear Hermione apart with no regrets ; ) And I suppose you are right, there are so many H/D stories out there you really can't escape some things x.x; I must say though, I'm so glad you've turned to the HPDM side—you're a wonderful reviewer who lifts my spirits and makes me want to write XD I'm also glad that you're okie dokies with the whole non-cliche Hermione, it makes me happy! –huggles- You're the best:D

_Miss brownie: _YAY! I'm glad you like the angsty-ness, since many people tend to disagree and shy away from it : ( Personally, I'm a sucker for dark and angsty things XD My stories feel empty without it :o Also, I'm glad you caught my efforts at the detailing :D A few stories ago, reviewers used to complain about my lack of description o.o; Makes me happy to know I'm improving ;D And Omgosh! The heat wave is _crazy!_ The power went out like a bajillion times in my area..._right_ when I was revising my chapter! (And I edited so much too!) It made me so mad D! Although currently I have a fan blowing at full power at my back, so it's pretty nice :3

_BabyKeepItSurreal: _Haha, yea, Harry is somewhat the victim, the poor, bumbling fool –pwaps Harry- the reason he became the problem, however, was because he didn't do anything...like push Hermione away! –Pwaps Harry some more- Though I agree with you, Ron _is_ being rather self-centered (I suppose he's always been like that, with the jealousy and whatnot) and Draco really does need to stop being stupid and get with Harry D: And on the side note, as strange as this may sound, I'm glad you felt frustrated XD; It was a point I was trying to make during the chapter...about how stupid everyone was being—and how stupid things can lead to even greater mistakes. Wee, I feel accomplished, somewhat o.o

_SpeechlessQuestion:_ "Ominouser"...Haha, I find that word cute for some reason. When I first saw it, I thought "mouse...mousy!" o.O; I'm such a weirdo sometimes -.-; Rawr, I haven't had breakfast in a long time...I keep waking up too late XD; Poopies, now you made me want breakfast foods :O! Oh, and I recommend reading that book if you like tragedies, it's even more frustrating and depressing than my story o.o The quote I love from that book is "Speak to me, do not play the tyrant". I just find it so...bittersweet –sighs-

_iNsAnE nO bAkA:_ Gargle lump? That sounds really cute! XD; Erm, and yea, not much H/Dness...more like "I hate you" H/Dness o.o; I'm glad you approve of the whole Ron thing though, since many reviewers don't seem to like his change (I suppose the whole cliche Ron-is-the-villain thing is more accepting). Anyway, this chapter had some H/Dness! I think...:D?

_Dragenphly: _-Nods in agreement with Dragenphly- Yup, Draco's being stupid, but being bred as a tool all his life makes him a bit fragile to these things I guess...but still, Draco's being stupid :p Hahaha, when you called him an emo kid, I thought of Draco with bangs over his eyes and dyed black hair sitting in a corner XD! He _is_ being a whiny, little prat though, and I admit I was influenced by Lightning on the Wave's story...where Draco is _very_ whiny x.x; And yea, Harry's being stupid too. But that's the whole goodness of angst! BWAHAHAHA—yar, I love angst ;-;0 –hides in a corner and picks at the wall- Ha, Ron's character was made to be like "wtf?" since...honestly, _no one_ lets Ron side with Draco, or be friends with Slytherins, or just let his human side out. It makes me so like "RAWR!" when I see for the nth time Ron acting in a stupid temper tantrum way or being a villain and whatnot. Why not spice things up? ;D Also, Draco already...keeled people o.o; -points at Harry's visions- Eeep! Hope I didn't confuse the chapter too much! –Cowers in fear-

_NATWEST:_ Aw, I'm glad you like the length : ) I've heard some people say they were _too_ long, really o.o; And I'm also glad you like my idea on the mask :) this review makes me want to start writing the next chapter immediately! XD

_Luminara Windu: _Aww –hands Luminara some tissues- Haha, I like your incredible animosity towards Hermione though ;D

_Chocola Emo Shizzle:_ -puts on shades and acts cool with Chocola- XD Wee, thanks for liking my last chapter! A whole bunch of people seemed to dislike it ;-; Though it'll probably be even worse with this chapter o.o; -puts on army defense gear- Eeps! As for Harry's fog thing...it was _supposed_ to be stupid symbolism, but it seems to be confusing people so I'll probably edit it a bit...Narf, I'm still torn between keeling Hermione though, lol. There's so many things I could do with her alive, yet so satisfactory to chop off her head...XD

_Devinnetjuh: _Yarr, I heart Placebo. ;D The lyrics are brilliant too. Any other Place songs ya like?

_Orlandoroxmysox:_ Haha, a movie, that'd be sweet if we had a HPDM movie o.o; I love ficcies where Draco and Harry write letters to each other. : ) –Feeds Orlandoroxmysox more chapters-

_Kuraiyoshi:_ Hahaha, at first, I wasn't going to kill them, but death scenes are beautiful. XD; Bad reasoning, I know -.-; BUT no worries, there's more, and they aren't completely dead...;D Bahaha, don't worry about having a compie as your companion, I know exactly how you feel –computernerd- T-T; Ah, the sad life of one with...no life o.O; And you didn't write a worthless review! It was absolutely intriguing:3 I heart long reviews XD

_Haunted Emerald Depths:_ This chapter didn't turn out as dark as I wanted it to, unless you count the death of HPDM being dark o.o; I do agree with your torture of Hermione though, that really does sound like a wonderful idea...Hmm...-lightbulb goes off in head- Nyohoho!

_Silver Angel 7: _Lmao...Draco seeing a shrink XD I'd actually love to write a ficcie with that—it'd be hilarious! Bwah, my writing skills aren't anything to be jealous of...I'm still in my "experimenting" stage x.x; Anyhoo, I agree with your Hermione comment...all I have to do is figure out a satisfactory reason for her to live XD

_Joeyluver-dragonofra:_ Haha, a soap opera...I s'pose you're right XD Hope you enjoyed this chapter :3


	12. Another World

**A/N:** Sorry it took so long, guys. I realized that I threw away my huge outline while I was reorganizing (or I lost it or something...) so I had to make a new one D: That took a lot out of me and I apologize –o-;

**PS:** The song is by Avril Lavigne, called "Fall to Pieces."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**The Prophecy:** Dark encounters light, either canceling existence or blending into dusk; destroying prophecies or completing fate.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco dwell behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

* * *

**Masquerade – Another World

* * *

**

I looked away  
then I look back at you,  
You try to say  
the things that you can't undo,  
If I had my way  
I'd never get over you,  
Today's the day  
I pray that we make it through.

Make it through the fall,  
Make it through it all.

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The pale boy slowly raises an equally pale arm, languidly shoveling slender fingers through wispy, platinum hair. He stares morosely at the frigid horizon, taking in the grey clouds and the crisp snow beneath his numbed feet. Digging a hard heel into the crunchy ice, he takes a step towards the vast ocean, curious as to why the arctic waters do not freeze. Stopping abruptly, he changes his mind and instead stares curiously at the flowing waves. The gentle curves of the dark waters crash loudly upon the damp shores, and the boy's delicate ears revel delightedly in its peaceful sound.

_Ha, that boy is me._

I shake my head, soaking in the lazy sunset which was placed somewhere above the hazy sky. It was windy, the breeze puffing its icy air mercilessly at my thick robes. Everything was so calm, so peaceful.

_So free._

I embrace the blankness of the landscape, deeply inhaling the crisp, cool evening air. There was nothing to do and nothing to see, unless one counted the hypnotic movement of the dark grey ocean waters.

_No responsibilities._

I sit down, frowning slightly as I feel the melted snow soak into my clothing. Silently, I cast a drying spell without thinking and I jolt in pleasure at my sudden display of wandless magic.

_Had I always been able to do that?_

I suddenly become aware of the fact that I had lost my memories. I knew that I was Draco Malfoy, but other than that...Frankly, I don't even know how I awoke to find myself in such surroundings. I lie flat on my back, stretching out and savoring the biting sensation of the ice around me.

_Not remembering is good. That way, I can stay here forever and never have to think about anything aga-_

"Malfoy?"

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And I don't wanna fall to pieces  
I just wanna sit and stare at you.  
I don't wanna talk about it  
And I don't want a conversation  
I just wanna cry in front of you.  
I don't wanna talk about it  
'Cause I'm in love with you.

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Grey orbs madly shoot open and my body heaves itself unceremoniously off the ground. My head whips behind me, clumsily twisting my hips in the process. The delicate line of my jaw drops along with my gaping mouth as I stare at the figure before me.

And the memories come rushing back.

**It was him.**

I remember the anguish, the fear, the pain...the betrayal. I remember happiness; his touches, his scent...his kisses. The man stands before me, awkward and confused, arms limp at his sides and long legs unwilling to move at my sudden appearance.

"Potter."

**I remember him.**

"Where are we?" he asks, approaching me cautiously. I make an irritated noise, beckoning him to come closer.

"No need to be strangers, Potter," I tell the boy. "All pretenses are gone while we're here." He makes a nervous sound of assent, sitting beside me as we both watch the coming and going of the infinite waves.

"Is this heaven?" he whispers softly, sneaking a glance in my direction. Confusion strangles my mind at the strange word, brows furrowing in puzzlement before I remember the muggle book on religion.

"No, but it should be." I ignore the boy looking at me curiously as I wrap my arms around my knees. "We did a shoddy job of trying to kill each other, you half-arsed git."

"You're as half-arsed as I am!" the Gryffindor argues back. "And what do you mean 'shoddy job'? We're _here_, aren't we?"

"We should be _dead_, not here," I correct, rolling my eyes at his daftness. "Could you be any more of an imbecile? Our souls are trapped in our own spell!"

"So we're not dead?"

"No! Well, yes! Uh..." I sigh in frustration. "Technically we are dead, but our souls were transported elsewhere."

"What?! How does _that_ work?" Harry cries. "I have never even hear about this!"

"Our will to kill each other was not strong enough when we cast the killing spell, so our Half powers changed the spell into another sort of reality and sent our spirits here!" I pause, tapping a finger to my pointed chin. "This is truly curious; I've only heard of it happening once, when two wizards were subject to a dueling spell gone wrong. However, they used the Bat Bogey hex against each other and they returned to their bodies eighty years later. Needless to say, their corpses had already rotted so they became ghosts."

"I don't want to wake _dead_!" Potter shrieks before scratching his thick-headed skull in confusion. "And I thought that Unforgivables could only be cast if we really meant them."

"Potter, we are _Halves;_ we do things that normal people can't do. When our time to fulfill the bloody prophecy had come, our Half magic increased enough to cast an Unforgivable without ill intent. Destiny doesn't care if we don't put our full will into completing our journey."

"So it was time to choose our paths in the prophecy, and we chose to kill each other. However, we didn't have the blooming _will_ to do it so we landed _here_?"

"Brilliant, that brain of yours, Potter."

"Sod off, Malfoy," the brunette turns away from me, face slightly scrunched in deep thought. I take in his strong jaw, soulful eyes, and prominent features. Part of me wants to link my arm with his, and another part of me wishes me to lean my head onto the Gryffindor's shoulder, but I do none of the above.

_Why not? You will lose nothing here._

A pale, trembling hand reaches over, hovering over the fingers of the boy next to me. I hastily snatch it back. _Get a hold of yourself, Malfoy_. _Acting like a nancy boy is disgraceful, even in the middle of nowhere._

"So what do we do here?" Harry interrupts my internal argument and I find myself staring at his thoughtful expression. "What, Draco? Do I have something on my face?"

I shake my head, willing the evil consciousness of carnal lust to go away. "I told you not to say my name," I snap at him. "And here, I suppose we make our decision." Pausing, my eyes somehow find their way back to his green orbs. "This is a limbo of sorts; we decide which way we want the prophecy to go."

**Dark encounters light, either canceling existence or blending into dusk; destroying prophecies or completing fate.**

"We choose whether we want to finish killing each other or work together and live?" I nod my head, and the Gryffindor wrinkles his head in confusion. "What if we choose nothing?"

"I think that's like killing each other; we'd probably just stay here. However, if we choose to combine our powers for your cause, I bet we'd go back to the world of the living."

Harry jumps up at my statement. Quickly brushing the snow from his legs, he quickly drags me to my feet. "Mordred's sodding hair, what are we waiting for? Quickly, we must go back!"

I snatch my thin arm from his grasp, idly rubbing the spot where he touched me. "Whatever for? I'm staying here!" The mighty Hero looks taken back, giving me his familiar wide-eyed look. "Don't look at me like that, Potter, you should very well know _why_ I choose to stay."

He continues staring, but his mouth is now moving like a blubbering goldfish. I throw my hands up in frustration. "Don't you see? I'm free, Potter! There are no Deatheaters, no war, no Lucius, and best of all...I'll never have to be a tool again!"

"But what about the rest of the world?" the brunette insists, gaining control of his voice. "They are still at war and without our help, they cannot defeat Voldemort!"

"Not my problem." I sit back down, turning my back and blatantly ignoring the heroic Gryffindor. He crouches next to me, placing both hands on my shoulders.

"Malfoy, you selfish prat-" I raise a hand, silencing his plaintive cries.

"Look," I whisper to him, beckoning his eyes towards the wide ocean horizon in front of me. "Isn't it peaceful? After everything we've been through, living here is too much of a miracle to give up."

Harry grows quiet, his hands never leaving my shoulders. We watch the sunset together, noticing how the bright ball of flame never moves and how the marble sky above never turns dark. It was a while before the brunette spoke again, but when he did, his voice was thick and quiet.

"Our world could be like this if Voldemort was gone."

"Do shut up, Potter. Not everyone cares for the bloody world like you do!" I snap. "Speaking of which, why _would_ you care? I thought you were sick of everything!" Spinning around, I jab an accusing finger at the Gryffindor's startled face. "The entire world puts all their burdens on you, _forcing_ you to be some bloody hero! Why not relinquish the throne and have the Light work together instead of placing everything on your shoulders? I'm sure they could defeat You-Know-Who easily if they used their bloody brains!"

Harry was silent at my outcry, my panting breath and the crashing waves the only sounds. He coughs nervously, sitting back and idly scratching his nose. "After I came here," he begins, "I realized that I wanted to be around during Voldemort's downfall. I've been too immersed in the war to forget about everything and leave."

Regaining his confidence, Potter stares boldly into my surprised eyes. "I want to see a world where people live without fear and prosecution; a world in which I helped create joy and happiness."

"Harry Potter, the heroic Gryffindor, strikes again with his astoundingly good-hearted speech," I sneer sarcastically. "Honestly, your and your Housemates—well, _especially_ you—have such annoying Hero complexes."

"But wouldn't you want to see a world like that? If Voldemort was defeated, you could be free, living however you like!" Harry argues. "Please, Draco, blend your magic with mine and aid me in Voldemort's death."

"_This_ is how I want to live!" I insist, making a sweeping gesture towards the landscape with my arm. "Besides, there is nothing in that world for me. I'm like a floating log amidst the ocean, Potter! All I have there is my body and mind, perhaps not even that once the war is over!"

"I'm sure you have your mother-"

"No. I don't," I say flatly. "The Dark Lord's plan was for me to kill you off and die together. If I come back, he'll assume that I joined your bloody side and I would be marked as a traitor in the Deatheater ranks. Even gazing at my mother will warrant my head." I stare into the boy's horrified eyes. "I lose everything by going with you."

Harry grows silent again, consumed in his silent thoughts. At first, I could not hear his words, so I lean forward. Then I hear it again.

"You have me."

"Come again?"

"If you come back, you'll always have me by your side. I promise you, Draco; you won't be alone."

No one speaks after that, grey staring harshly into a calm green. Slowly, a cackling sound builds in our ears, escalating in volume and pitch as it continues without pausing. My vision goes black and I find myself gasping for air as the maniacal noise begins to choke me. I realized that

**I was laughing.**

Wiping imaginary tears from my bitter cheeks, I smile sourly at the brunette in front of me. "Very sentimental, Potter. Too bad I'm not one for romantic niceties." The twitch on my lips dips downwards into a frown and my smile turns into a scowl. "I'm not gullible, either."

Absently clutching the snow in my fists, I ignore Harry's sinful objections and continue. "Aside from that, I don't think I ever had you at all—nor will I ever. I can't trust you, Potter. If I went with you, I'm sure you'll eventually leave me to experience 'things' with another woman, if not the lovely Miss Granger herself."

"Draco," the desperate boy interrupts and I glare at his use of my name. "Draco, please, believe me. I-during that time, I realized what I was doing, and I was going to stop myself before anything happened! I have no doubts about anything."

Another jumble of short, barking laughter emits from my throat. "You're rather bad at lying, _Harry_. Are you just trying to woo me into coming back with you?"

The Gryffindor winces at my mockery, and he glances uneasily at the snow around him. "Even if I _was_ lying, you could just refuse to work with me when we go back."

"I thought you would have researched more about Halves while I was gone," I sneer. "Once our magic is fused, it cannot be undone. We become One and we attain One powers. In other words, we will share each other's magic. You could drain me dry without my consent, even if I was halfway across the globe."

The boy pales, reaching a trembling hand towards my face. I sneer at him again, tilting back to avoid his tentative touch. "How did you know all this?" Harry asks softly.

"The Dark Lord has been hoarding the books and I managed to gain access to them," I say dismissively. "What I just said are all theories, but they should be rather accurate, as they were made by hundreds of Seers and a century's worth of researchers."

"So...once we fuse our magic together, I can use it however I want?" Potter murmurs slowly.

I nod in agreement. "And the other way around, of course."

"Couldn't _you_ run back to Voldemort and drain me dry then?" Harry argues.

"Why, Potter," I drawl. "How can I believe a word you are saying if you don't trust me back?"

The boy blinks, snarling in frustration before grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me towards him. His lips crash onto mine, hard and painful, yet sinfully pleasurable. I fail to suppress a moan as his tongue slowly traces my bottom lip. He plunges in, desperate and needy after foregoing physical contact for weeks.

Weak with pleasure and unable to move, I allow myself to fall back against the snow, the amorous Gryffindor pressing against my willing body. After an eternity, Harry lifts his head, giving me one last peck on my reddened lips before staring me straight in the eye.

Our harsh breaths are visible in the cold air, and Potter whispers to me. "Look into my mind, Draco. Search my memories and my thoughts, then you will know I am not lying." The barred doors to his mind fully unlock and the hinges swing open, granting me complete access and control of his being.

I whiz past his memories, watching his painful tears, the anguish he felt as he watched my cruelty, and the desperation he experienced when I walked away from him. Never had I seen the brave Gryffindor act in such a weak manner, and I admit that it must have been due to a combination of shock and me.

I grab Harry, rolling him to the side. "Why didn't you do this sooner?" I whisper to him, an unhindered hand freely roaming his face.

"I never thought to do this," he smiles back. "Not to mention you locked your own mind and refused to talk to me." We lie there side by side, facing each other. I enjoy the cool atmosphere and Harry's scent, pausing from scrutinizing his face to press my lips against his.

_What are you doing?_ I hiss to myself. _Why are you doing this? He could hurt you—it is not worth it!_

The corners of my thin lips twitch upwards, the memories of Harry that I had suppressed stampeding across my mind. I had realized how unreasonable I was being—how _everyone_ was being—and how daft it was that a small event could turn into such a hideous, tragic conclusion. Perhaps love really is blind, after all?

_It is not worth it!_

_**Yes, it is.**_

"So are we...are we lovers?" Harry whispers, his bottom lip trembling in nervous anticipation. My tongue trails across it, comforting the quivering mess.

"I'm glad you told off that female fiend." I smirk as Harry pushes me in jest.

"Are we lovers?" he asks me again, the tone of his voice growing low and just a bit husky. Placing a finger on my chin in contemplation, I murmur, "Well, since you've finally grown enough to look after yourself, I suppose so."

The Gryffindor crushes me to him, ravishing my face with his cunning mouth. _"Grown? I'm not a child, Draco."_

I laugh in my mind, humoring the brunette. _"Grown a backbone, anyway. The way you acted during that time was horrendous; do you realize that, Harry?"_

Potter abruptly moves his face away from mine and solemn eyes stare into my own. "Say it again," he whispers. "My name."

"Harry?" I ask, and he nuzzles my neck in happiness, asking me again. "Harry."

"I haven't heard that in so long, Draco," he whispers. "I've missed you."

I smile as he kisses me again, pressing a hand against his chest to pause his ministrations. "We need to discuss our decision," I tell him softly. "Fusing our magic may intrude on our personal space."

I sit up and the brunette pouts, following my lead. "Has this to do with the One powers?" Harry grows grim when I nod in affirmation.

"Becoming One is quite...literal in a sense. Not only do we share our magic, but we will also share all five senses. For example, you could taste what I was eating for breakfast if you chose to." The Gryffindor bobs his head slightly, letting me know that he was listening, and I continue.

"We can also feel the emotions of the other if we wanted, but like the Half powers, some stronger feelings can easily leak to the other," I pause, watching Harry cautiously before approaching the next subject.

"Pain is included; if I get hurt, you will feel a dulled version of my wound, though I surmise that it would still be rather painful. Even if I were sick, you would experience some of the same effects. The worst, however, is that if one of us dies, the other will undoubtedly follow."

"I thought we had to kill each other in order to die?"

"After we become One, the prophecy becomes completed, and that no longer applies to us," I smile grimly. "We'll be mortals again."

"How lovely," Potter jokes dryly. I send him an impatient glare and he smirks lightly.

"I'm serious, Harry. This fusion requires a lot of trust, and like I said, there is no turning back. You'll be stuck with me."

A strong hand reaches out to grab my own slender ones, and I relax into the brunette's arms. "I don't care; in fact, I consider it a blessing. I wouldn't want this with anyone except you."

I scowl. "Quit your romantic sniveling, it is unbecoming of you."

Harry stands up, arching his back in a seductive stretch. Extending his arm, he offers me his palm. "I mean it, Draco. Come back with me?"

I sigh dramatically, sweeping my wistful eyes across the beautiful, empty land. "I do so wish I could stay here."

Reaching my hand to his, I watch the Gryffindor smile. "When this is all over, we'll find somewhere just like this."

"I hold you to that, Scarhead." Hands clasp together and at my unspoken agreement, our magic burst from our bodies in a multi-colored collage of swirls and circles. They glow vibrantly, pulsing simultaneously to our heartbeats. As our hearts begin to pump to the same rhythm, the magic mixes together, fusing and expanding into a giant glowing mass.

The blob of pure magic surrounds us, melting and growing larger in a similar fashion as our shields during battle. The sun grows brighter, bursting through the hazy clouds, and the ice begins to melt. Fields of green peek through the watery snow and flowers proudly spread their petals before our very eyes.

The light sweeps grandly across the barren landscape, turning the murky waters into a sparkling blue. The glitter of the water dazzles our startled orbs and the blinding light begins to drown us. The familiar feeling of suffocation surrounds our two bodies and just as before, there was a brilliant dazzle, a slather of glitter, and

**Darkness.**

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You're the only one  
I'd be with till the end.  
When I come undone  
you bring me back again.  
Back under the stars,  
Back into your arms.

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"H-He's breathing! Quick, alert the Ministry!"

"Mr. Potter! Harry Potter, can you hear me?"

"Call for Hogwarts!"

I blink sleepily, heaving a soft sigh as I wrap my arms tighter around the mass of dark hair. I was in an unknown room with Harry Potter; it was a bleached room with stark white walls and a small bed surrounded by bustling medi-witches.

"The Deatheater is alive as well! Get the Aurors!"

"Should we stun him?"

"I doubt we'd be able to; the shield is still around the both of them."

I hiss, sitting up as Harry rubs his eyes next to me. I notice that the blue-green shield from battle was still wrapped around us, and the people around the room were glaring at me with much hostility.

"Draco?" the Gryffindor blinks. "Why are we at St. Mungo's? I thought we would be buried in a tomb somewhere..."

"We couldn't separate that blasted Deatheater from your body," a random wizard spits. "The shield destroyed anyone who touched it, so we levitated your corpses here until tests could be done."

"Tests?"

"We were trying to figure out a way to disable the shields and separate you two," another witch replies, lifting her head proudly. "After all, we refuse to bury our courageous hero with that traitorous _thing_."

"Don't." Harry's voice turns cold and harsh, and the bewildered witch hastily steps back.

"Did I say something wrong, Mr. Potter?"

"He is _not_ a thing." The tone of the Gryffindor's voice is low and menacing; a hidden threat promising excruciating pain to those who disobeyed his orders.

A wizard speaks up, walking closer to the both of us. "Surely the Deatheater has befuddled your mind, Mr. Potter. Please disable the shields so we can dispose of this proble-"

"I SAID NO!" the brunette's scream rang loudly, shattering various vials and equipment in the room.

"Always the center of attention, Mr. Potter," an amused voice comes from the doorway. Albus Dumbledore steps in with all his glory, Minerva and Severus following closely behind him. "And I assume you two have 'blended into dusk'?"

"Yes, sir."

"But how is that possible?" McGonagall demands. "You ceased to breathe!"

I sit back as Harry related the story back to the three Professors. I can sense my Godfather looking at me keenly as if trying to determine whether I was You-Know-Who's spy or not. I smirk back at him, forcing him to look away.

Soon after Potter finishes relaying the flurry of events, a group of Aurors strides in, pointing their disgusting wands in my face. "Deatheater Draco Malfoy, you are under arrest for murder, trespassing, pill-" The Headmaster holds up his gnarled, wrinkled hand, pausing the Auror from his long tirade.

"I'm sorry, Auror Shacklebolt," the old man says softly, a twinkle in his eye. "Draco Malfoy, much like Severus Snape, was a spy for the Dark Lord, and he was forced to follow the orders as to not raise suspicion."

A pregnant silence presses its way into the atmosphere and Shacklebolt turns red, sputtering under his breath. "Bu-but we've had many witnesses saying he killed Potter!"

"Who is very much alive," Dumbledore replies firmly, gesturing to the boy beside me. "In fact, young Malfoy was the one who planned the guise of death to trick You-Know-Who."

Now _all_ the Aurors look flustered, shuffling around moronically until deciding to leave in a huff. Not having spoken a word since I woke up, I turn to the aged Headmaster. "Why did you lie? Why did you save me?"

Dumbledore gauges me, wisely stroking his long grey beard. "I know Mr. Potter needs you, and if you've come back with him, I presume you have joined our side."

I nod curtly, resisting the urge to sneer as the wizard's eyes twinkle with a knowing gleam—the old fool always knew more than he let on. He turns away to explain to the other two Professors and a dash of red scampers into the room.

"Ron!" Both Harry and I exclaim in surprise as the Weasley bounds over to our bed. His face was flushed from running and a long, jagged scar ran down the side of his face. He seems more cheerful compared to his morose personality of the past, a brilliant grin covering his exuberant features.

"I can't believe you are both alive!" he cries, reaching out to envelop us in a hug. I lean back into the pillows, quickly shouting at Ron not to touch our shield. Stopping, he steps back. "Oh. You still have that bloody thing on."

We give him a questioning gaze and the redhead continues. "That shield of yours expanded suddenly and covered the entire battlefield. Everyone who touched the thing perished."

"If it covered the entire battlefield, why are you still alive?" I ask suspiciously. Ron seemed to be expecting the question, and he brightens visibly.

"Good thing Harry taught us a spell to hide underground in case of aerial attacks! Most of us cast the spell and survived. I can't say the same for the Deatheaters though."

I snicker. "Bet they ran like little pansies."

"They sure did, but not many could escape the shield," the redhead murmurs. "You two won the battle for us, bloody risky though."

Harry laughs, silently gazing at the wound on Ron's face. Weasley's hand flies over his injury, tracing the length with his fingers. "This? Don't worry, Harry, it will heal."

"How did you get it?" he asks, glancing at his best friend in concern.

"Well...First I would like you to meet someone." Ron turns around, beckoning a figure into the room. She cautiously steps in, not meeting anyone's eye. Harry places a supporting hand on my back as I stiffen in surprise.

"Hermione!"

The Gryffindor girl walks with a noticeable limp, hobbling over to Ron's side painfully. The Weasel smiles grandly at her. "Hermione saved my life; if not for her, I'd have my head off instead of a little scar."

"Wh-what?" Harry stutters.

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_Ron fought for his life, camping faithfully near the gigantic bubble that shielded his best mate. The Deatheaters outnumbered the army he was a part of, and he knew their side was losing._

_He gasped as a Crucio caught him unawares. Convulsing on the dirt floor, he could only wish that the pain would be over soon. Two Deatheaters flanked his sides, cold eyes peeking through their dark robes. The one who had cast the Unforgivable sneered and spat into Weasley's aggravated face._

"_I will have the pleasure of killing you," the Evil one grinned, brandishing his wand-_

"Diffindo!"

_The Deatheater squealed, coughing up blood in surprise before his limbs ripped themselves apart, splicing him into pieces. Ron looked up at his savior, jaw dropping at the familiar mass of curly hair._

"_Hermione!"_

_The girl ran through the crowd, ducking curses and getting singed along the way. The remaining Deatheater swiveled his head towards her, smirking at her panicked face._

"_It is too late, little girl," he laughs. "The boy will die. _Incendio!"

_Granger screamed, jumping forward the last few steps and pushing Ron out of the way. She winced as her leg got caught in the crossfire, shouting a quick water spell to ease the fire from her wounded limb. _

_When she was sure the leg was completely drenched, she turned to the boy next to her. "Are you all right, Ron?" she asked the redhead, watching him with concern._

"_Blo-bloody hell, Hermione! I should be asking _you_ that!" Weasley screamed back, wrinkling his nose at the smell of her burnt flesh. The girl nodded slowly, giving him a forced smile. Her expression suddenly turned horrific, and she suddenly dragged the redhead on top of her. The cutting spell missed his neck by a few inches, slicing a long gash down his cheek instead._

"_That's the second time you saved me," he gasped as Hermione pushed him away._

"_Ron, as much as I'd love to talk and ask you to forgive me, we have a few Deatheaters to take care of," she said as-matter-of-factly. "_Expelliarmus!"_ The wand flew from the Deatheaters hand, catching him unawares. Ron quickly cast the finishing spell upon the enemy, and he smiled at the curly haired girl next to him._

"_I"m really sorry, Ron."_

"_For what? I don't remember."_

_They both grinned at each other, Ron helping Hermione hobble back to the castle for treatment._

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"We've been friends again ever since," the redhead finishes proudly, patting the girl on the back.

Hermione smiles, turning back to me and Harry. "Look, I realized my hypocritical actions after you rightfully yelled at me," she says calmly. "I don't expect you to, but I really do wish that you can forgive me. Blinded...attraction can make one think unclearly." She looks down, clearly embarrassed at admitting a weakness. Biting her lip, she looks to Harry. "Can we-Can we be friends again?"

The Gryffindor besides me looks torn, looking in my direction. Granger turns her attentions to me, her small mouth trembling nervously. "Malfoy? I know I've also done you wrong by trying to take Harry from you, and I hope you can forgive me someday. Even if you don't...I-I understand."

I scrutinize the girl, looking deep into her wide eyes. Ron seems to trust her and Harry obviously wants to be friends with Hermione again. Besides, I had some things to say as well...

"Well," I drawl casually. "I suppose you're not the only victim of clouded attraction." Glancing at her surprised look, I continue. "I should have listened to Harry instead of being a stubborn, thick-headed prat and running off. If I don't forgive you, how will I ever forgive myself?"

Hermione smiles, making a motion as if to embrace me before being reminded of the shield around me and Harry. She sits back, granting me a grateful smile instead.

"Friends we are then."

"Indeed."

We all sit like a group of blind idiots, staring at each other with wide grins that would put the Cheshire cat to shame. Hermione reaches up to brush the hair from her face and I blink in surprise.

"Granger, what in Salazar's name did you do to your hair?"

The girl looks puzzled, gaining a look of realization when I gesture to the short, ragged bob on her shoulder that was her hair.

"Oh, this? Some of the flyaway spells cut away my hair, so I decided to chop off the entire length and have it grow back," she chuckles, glancing over at Harry. "Not to mention that shield of yours nearly burnt my face off when I saw it coming."

Ron laughs, patting the girl again on the back. "You should've seen the Deatheaters running," he tells the green-eyed boy. "I bet they were all destroyed in the end."

I shoot up from the pillows, knocking rudely into Harry's shoulder. "Blaise! Pansy!" I blurt. "Did they survive?"

Ron frowns, looking upwards to the ceiling in thought. "Most of the Slytherins are gone," he says slowly. "But I think those two were some of the few that approached Dumbledore for protection after the war."

"What?"

"After everyone thought you died, Parkinson and Zabini turned themselves in to Dumbledore and said they were only there to support you. Dumbledore listened to them and tweaked the Ministry a bit to give them another chance," Hermione replies.

"They could be lying though," Weasley interrupts darkly, receiving a jab from the curly-haired Gryffindor. Mouth set in a grim line, his eyes burn through mine with his next few words. "Crabbe and Goyle didn't survive though. I'm sorry."

I nod dumbly, sitting back to process the new information. How many more of my Housemates had perished in the war? How many of them died because of my magic; because of _me_?

A warm hand reaches from behind me, placing itself reassuringly onto my tense shoulders. Bringing me close to a large source of warmth, dark hair tickles the side of my exposed neck as soft lips gently brush my cheek. "It is not your fault," Harry murmurs into my ear. "There was nothing you could do."

_Nothing I could do?_

My volatile temper bursts free, a surge of white-hot rage flaring through my body. "It _was_ my fault!" I yell, pushing the Gryffindor away. "If I never switched sides...if I never let them follow my footsteps—I should have told them not to join the side I was on!"

"Weren't they your friends?" Hermione suddenly asks. I nod and she sighs softly in exasperation. "Malfoy, they followed you of their own will. Friends support each other; they wanted to be with you in a time of need."

"But I shouldn't have let them come along! I should have said something-"

"If Harry decided to go attack You-Know-Who right now, unprepared and injured, I would still follow him," Ron argues. "It is not your place to decide what your friends should and shouldn't do."

_Was it really not my fault? _

"...They are still undoubtedly angry with me," I speak numbly, glancing into the awkward folds of the white sheets. Arms reach out and wrap themselves around my body. Leaning in, I inhale the fresh scent and close my eyes, burrowing myself in the comfort which surrounds me.

"Er...guess we will be going now. See you back at Hogwarts in a few days," I hear Weasley mutter in embarrassment. Helping 'Mione stand, they prepare to leave. I say nothing to the shuffling footsteps or the door quietly closing behind me, relaxing further into the snug arms of Harry Potter.

"You all right?" he whispers to me, lifting a hand to brush the strands of platinum hair from my face. Raising my own arms, I grip his shoulders tightly.

"I don't know. After making the biggest mistake of my life, I nearly killed my lover because of some utterly minor debacle and murdered some of my closest friends. How am I supposed to feel?"

Harry chuckles softly. "Just be glad you're alive."

"No." Looking up into his clear green orbs, I stare resolutely at the man in front of me. "I'm glad I'm with you."

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Wanna know who you are,  
Wanna know where to start,  
I wanna know what this means.

Wanna know how you feel,  
Wanna know what is real.  
I wanna know everything... Everything.

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"_Can you taste it, Potter?"_

"_Wha-Oh! That's interesting."_

"_Indeed. Now tell me if you can feel this."_

I look across the Great Hall, grinning widely at the Gryffindor table. Harry stares back, mentally acknowledging the sights, smells, and feelings that I was making him experience. Today was our first day back at school and we had arrived late. Blatant murmurs of my Deatheater status were being thrown around the building, but of course, I had expected this.

Ignoring the fearful glares of the Hufflepuffs and the distrustful glances of the Ravenclaws, I glance over at Harry and bite into an orange. _"Try this, the fruits are really sweet today."_

During our recuperation period at St. Mungo's, we had gotten the time to figure out how to experience each other's senses. I'd like to say that Harry and I now understand everything about our strange sharing of feelings, visions, and other things, but with One powers, I can never be too certain. For now, Harry and I spend the time sharing the taste of food, pleasant touches, and delicate smells from across the room. It was just like sitting next to each other—almost.

Giving me a taste of his toast, Harry inquires from across the table, "_The Slytherins seem to be avoiding you."_

I snort. _"Half of them are scared of me and the other half think that I have betrayed them."_

"_It could cause problems."_

"_I know."_

I run a hand through my hair, giving my pathetic Housemates one last glare before striding off to my first lesson. I feel two of them following closely behind me and my shoulders tense in anticipation at what they are going to do.

"Draco."

"Blaise, Pansy."

Spinning around, I coolly glance down at the two figures in front of me. My inner guilt at dragging my best friends into battle coils tightly in my stomach, winding into knots and growing thorns. Pansy has a newly acquired burn mark painted onto her arm and Blaise now sports a scar down his chin.

_It is my fault..._

"Why didn't you tell us what you were planning?" Blaise demands, stepping forward and cutting straight to the point. "If we knew you were on Dumbledore's side all along, we wouldn't have followed you so blindly."

"Why did you fool us? I thought we were friends," Pansy agrees, betrayal vivid on her face. "When we saw the medi-witches levitate your corpse away, I thought it was real."

"It was." I clear my throat nervously when the two Slytherins raise their startled eyes towards mine. "Listen, there are some things you need to know about me."

"Something that would explain your new look during the battle?"

I nod, stepping forward and telling them of my Half and One status. Pansy and Blaise listen intently, nodding during regular intervals. By the time I had finished, we had skipped the morning lessons and we were well into the afternoon ones. I had not mentioned my relationship with Potter—I knew they would not understand.

Pansy shifts on one foot, leaning against the wall. "Why didn't you tell us this in the first place, Draco?"

"I was in denial," I whisper. "Besides, I thought that I would never ally myself with Potter, so death was inevitable..."

"And so you thought to drag your best mates early into battle, forcing them to witness horrific and unnecessary cruelty," Blaise says flatly. My eyes widen at their harsh accusations.

"No!" I cry, astounded. "I never meant for that to happen! It-it was a grave error on my part."

"What would cause you to commit such an error?" Pansy demands. I shake my head morosely, unable to tell them of my relationship with the Boy-Who-Lived. Blaise sighs in frustration, grabbing his girlfriend and pushing past me.

"I'm sorry, Draco, but I don't think we can tolerate a friend who's dishonest and disloyal," he murmurs. I open my mouth in protest, but my friend whips around, boring into my soul with his blazing eyes. "Our Slytherins _died_, Draco! Greg, Theodore...over half of our Slytherin seventh years are _gone_!"

"And you know what?" Zabini spits. "Most of them died to the disgusting shield that _you_ created!" He stalks off, leaving my mouth hanging and my mind in a haze of complete frustration.

_But it wasn't my fault! I-I never asked you to support me; I never encouraged _anyone_ to fight for the dark side!_

_...How was I to know that my shield would behave in such a manner?_

I pass a mirror, my reflection stopping me by pressing itself against the wall.

_Or did you know, but not care? _it purrs, pressing a seductive cheek against the icy glass.

_I thought you disappeared,_ I say flatly, picking up my pace and jogging back to the Slytherin common room.

_I will follow you wherever you go,_ it whispers_, but do not worry, I won't lose my life in the process._

_That was low!_ I hiss back, unable to escape the horrendous voice which followed me in every shining piece of furniture.

_Why didn't you tell your Slytherins not to join the Dark Lord? They would have listened to you._ it continues mercilessly. _You knew you were going to die; why drag them along to see your cruel trainings?_

_I was blinded and numbed by the prior events!_ I snap defensively. _Or did you decide to disappear around then?_

_Certainly not_, the reflection scoffs from a silver vase, glancing at its clean nails. _Although I can't say the same for Parkinson and Zabini once they know what you've been doing with Potter._

_SHUT UP!_ I smash the vase with my fist, pieces of the painted porcelain embedding themselves into my pale hand.

"_Draco? Are you ok? My hand started aching."_

I pant harshly, tentatively picking the shards from my flesh. _"I'm fine. I just broke something."_

"_You're not feeling that well either; frustrated and upset. Should I have listened in to your conversation with Parkinson and Zabini earlier?"_

"_NO!" _I scream unexpectedly. "_Don't you _dare_ peek into my mind without permission! This is what I meant by personal intrusion! _Now_ do you see why I was so hesitant to agree to the fusion?"_

Ending my tirade, the awkward silence made me realize that I had been too harsh on the Gryffindor.

"_Harry I-"_

"_I'm sorry." _His curt reply brought me to a halt. "_I didn't know that you were so reluctant about this. Maybe if I-"_

"_Harry, I should be the one apologizing. I'm just upset right now." _I whisper a quick healing incantation over my bleeding wounds, watching in infatuation as the gaping flesh knit together. "_I'll talk to you about it later?"_

"_Let's talk when we test our new magic tonight. Where should we meet?"_

"_Forbidden Forest. I'll see you then."_

"_...I love you."_

I pause in mid-step, an arm's length away from my room. How was I supposed to answer that? I did not feel as if I could so easily return the favor, yet it would be too harsh to brush off. My brain madly wracks itself for a response.

"_I know."_

_What was that, Malfoy? _I berate myself, tapping my forehead in aggravation. _What a horrid answer!_

To say the least, the day was _not_ going well. Hopefully, that would change once I meet Potter tonight.

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I don't wanna fall to pieces  
I just wanna sit and stare at you.  
I don't wanna talk about it  
And I don't want a conversation  
I just wanna cry in front of you.  
I don't wanna talk about it.

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"You're late." I stand with my hands perched upon my hips, scowling at the tardy Gryffindor. Waving off his excuses, I motion for him to sit and we take off our illusions.

"While you were taking your sweet, bloody time, I decided to be productive and experiment without you," I declare. "I've noticed that my magic levels have not increased since our Half status—unless I tap into your own magic source."

"But that doesn't count as _your_ magic," Harry argues. "We just didn't get more powerful."

"I know," I say exasperatedly, "but let me try something—Hold my hand."

Grabbing the brunette's arm, I murmur a '_Wingardium Leviosa!'_ against an unsuspecting gigantic tree of the Forbidden Forest. It utters a heaving groan and the loud crackle of its roots blast its way into my ear as the tree floats easily from the ground. I grin triumphantly at Potter, leaning against his shoulder.

"I couldn't even budge the rotten plant with my magic," I say proudly. The Gryffindor rolls his eyes and smiles, kissing my hair.

"You think this is how we can defeat Voldemort?" he asks, frowning when I flinched at You-Know-Who's name. To save my battered pride, I pretend that I was batting away an incessant insect.

"Most likely, unless we find out that our night time rendezvous generate more magic than that," I say sarcastically, ruffling Harry's hair further. He attains a mischievous grin, slinging his arm around my waist.

"Let me try! '_Diffindo!'_" The boulder that was in our way neatly slices into hundreds of stone layers thin enough to float slowly down to the leaf-covered earth. "That was real awesome!"

We hex other random objects, marveling at the increase in strength and comparing our individual magic against the combined one. Finally, we decide to float ourselves up to a thick branch high above the ground, settling snugly against each other in the sparse surroundings.

"So why did you choose the forest instead of the Room of Requirement?" Harry murmurs, settling me between his raised legs. I lean back against his warm chest, humming in contentment.

"No Room can ever imitate this."

The moon was a tiny sliver, peeking sharply through the black night sky. Lazy clouds of grey drift near it, brushing against the small crescent. A maze of stars generously sprinkles itself across the dark canvas and the Milky Way fashionably displays itself proudly against the black-and-white collage.

I sneak a glance into Potter's eyes, taking in the way the moonlight gleamed in his shining eyes. He glances at me, gracing me with a fanged grin. "A sickle for your thoughts."

I scoff. "Potter, my thoughts are worth at _least _a galleon."

He chuckles and dives in for a sweet kiss. Feeling his warm breath ghost of my chilly cheeks, I raise an arm and idly trace lines across the back of his neck. He gasps, plunging further into our steamy action. A long while later, we finally reluctantly break from our heated session.

"Now will you tell me what you were so upset about?"

_Bloody hell, I was hoping he had forgotten about that._

"I don't want to tell you."

"Please?"

"_No, and don't peek into my thoughts!" _I bar the door shut from my mind, just in case Potter would have the nerve to look anywa-

"_Draco?"_

"Salazar's pet Kneezle!" I shout. "I thought I locked my mind!"

Attempting to lock it again, a sudden realization washes over me like a falling house. "Harry, I don't think I can keep my mind separated from you."

He scratches his head, glancing at me curiously. "Is this another of those 'personal intrusion' topics that Ones get?"

"Apparently so. Well that is just blooming lovely; I can't stop you from seeing whatever I do, nor can I keep from hearing your talkative Gryffindor voice."

"Thanks," the Gryffindor retorts dryly. "It is not such a problem, Draco. After all, we have nothing to hide, do we?" His hand makes its way from my stomach to beating chest, hinting at his hidden words. I roll my eyes.

"Fine, Potter. I'll tell you." I relate to him the words I exchanged with Pansy and Blaise, allowing him to search my mind for the full account. After I finish telling my tale, my dark-haired lover looks absolutely furious, yet seductive.

"Who do they think they are, blaming you like that?" he shouts angrily. "They had no right to do what they did and it is not your fault that they decided to follow you like lost puppies!"

"I know," I say tiredly. "But I can also understand how scared they must be. They almost lost their lives, Harry, and they saw many things they could have been spared of."

"People really _are_ blind when it comes to emotions," my Gryffindor sighs, absently rubbing his temple. "Now why did you leave out our relationship during your conversation with the Slytherins?"

I stiffen under Harry's embrace. "I told you before; they would never understand," I whisper bitterly. "Falling in love with a boy is unacceptable; Purebloods were raised to despise such actions."

Harry snorts. "It is preposterous. You should tell them anyway, Draco. We need to come out eventually."

"How about after the war is over?" I suggest hopefully. "Especially after we've moved to a peaceful location where there are no inhabitants?" I smirk under Potter's glare.

"'Tis a shame that I fancy a coward."

"Take that back, Potter!" I yell, clearly offended. "I may not have your disgusting Gryffindor hero-complex, but I am _definitely_ not a coward!"

"Yet you are too scared to tell people of your preference."

"Slytherin self-preservation," I insist. "And our cunning skills; my House sense told me that it would be least fatal if I tell the world after we've hidden away."

Laughing at Potter's wry glare, I turn around and peck him on the lips. Forgetting about our argument, Harry happily leans into my mouth, growling at the delicious contact. We continue to hold each other, devouring each other happily even as the sun began to rise.

In our state of carnal desire, we fail to hear the distinct '_Click!'_ of a certain camera, nor do we see the object equipped with the latest "Maximum Proximity!" lenses. These special lenses allowed the user to magnify objects from miles away, and it was currently perched happily on a certain window of Hogwarts.

The photographer laughs, giddy with the sudden discovery.

"This is going to make me one wealthy bloke..."

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And I don't wanna fall to pieces  
I just wanna sit and stare at you.  
I don't wanna talk about it  
And I don't want a conversation  
I just wanna cry in front of you.  
and I don't wanna talk about it  
'Cause I'm in love with you.  
I'm in love with you,  
'Cause I'm in love with you.  
I'm in love with you,  
I'm in love with you.

* * *

**AN:** Goodness, this took quite a while to type x.x; to be honest, Yay, Harry and Draco are together, _finally! _But to be honest, I'm used to angst and intense situations, not...these light-hearted scenes and follow-up information –o-; Hopefully it was not too dull? After a few more of these light-hearted chapters, it is going to turn dark again! Sort of...; )

**PS:** Seems like Hermione got off the hook easy, huh? Well, not really. You'll see ;D Past actions are going to bite her in the bum, and hard.

**PS: **For those who might be confused, the One powers are:

_1._ Ability to share all five senses (touch, smell, hearing, taste, and sight) This ability needs to be intentionally provoked by either Harry or Draco to work

_2._ Although Harry and Draco's magic are a bit above average alone, together (with physical contact) they are much stronger

_3._ Ability to share pain. There is no way to prevent this skill.

_4._ If one dies, the other will too

_5._ All other Half magic (such as Apparition to each other, mind speech, limited ability to use the other's bodies) still apply

_6. _They are able to utilize each other's magic; Draco can use up Harry's magic if he wanted to and vice versa.

Mm, there might be more, but this is what I have off the top of my head.

**Next Chapter:** I'm sure we all know who this sodding photographer is...but how will the public handle the information? More importantly, how are Blaise and Pansy going to react? Hogwarts explodes as our two favorite characters come out of the broom closet!

**Shoutouts:**

_Miss brownie: _Dark Harry is...-drools- o.o; Nyohoho, and the nights did get chilly, but today (August 9) is actually pretty hot. Strange weather we are getting nowadays D: Out of curiosity, do you live in Nor-Cal or So-Cal:o

_Chocola Emo Shizzle:_ Lmao, you're right. And they _did_ sort out their problems! Weeeeee! XD Although it was tempting to leave them dead and happy... x.x;

_Kuraiyoshi:_ Argh, the evil gas symbolism of doom! I er...revised that part again, so hopefully it will make sense? –o-; The whole Hermione debacle was based off of Harry's inexperience with romance, and so that made it easy for Harry to doubt himself—especially with 'Mione's logical reasons. And bahaha, when did I say they weren't dead? ;D They died in the last chapter—or at least they weren't breathing. Which is basically the same thing –twiddles thumb- Bahaha, hope this chapter sorts everything out. Hope you're not still confuzzled over this:3

_Cheezewizz: _Eeeek, everyone's getting confused by the evil gas symbolism of doom! X.x; I revised that chapter again in attempts to clarify the stupid thing, but if its still confusing...tell me please so I can do more revising –o-; You have no idea how tempted I am to end the story there though ;D Alas, I've got too much planned to stop so you're stuck with me for a few chapters more! Bahahaha...

_xOhxSnapx: _Aww, COOKIES! –eats the whole tray and gains 932463274320 lbs- I heart cookehs ; ) Rawr, hope I didn't take too long to update:3

_DMswissmissHG:_ Rawr, Hermione got let off easy, in my opinion, but she'll be working hard to gain the reader's respects again ;D This isn't the end of her! Gwahahaha...oh and I sort of based Draco's letter off of the letter in _As Meat Loves Salt_. Squee, it is my favorite excerpt of all time –starry eyes-

_Pink-xXx-Kiss: _Sort of? HPDM were kinda in a...limbo? XD;

_Ambroisine: _EEK! –hands a roll of toilet paper to Ambroisine- those last longer ;D Haha, Google...my one and only friend of the internet XD "Dear Feelings" was IRC only, but I managed to snag it off aarinfantasy. (Wonderful site, by the way...) Not to mention I've been nosebleeding myself to death off of HPDM youtube clips...I have no life, do I? X.x

_Orlandoroxmysox:_ Here's the next chappie! Hope you held out till then? XD

_GREMLIN:_ Placebo is my favorite band of all time. I can't survive without 'em –rolls around happily- what's your favorite song:3

_Haunted Emerald Depths: _Whenever I read HPDM death stories, I can't stand it if only one of them dies (since the other one's left behind! ;-;) It always seems so much more of a relief to know they both died and they'll both be happy in the afterlife—or maybe I'm just weird -.-; And your intuition was right! I had to have them back; after all, Voldemort's still on the loose, eh? ;D Wee, hope you liked this chappie!

_QtShades:_ lol bubbles blood? XD! –drags QtShades to St. Mungos- As for the ending of the story...Hmm, I've still got a long way to go, so you can find out for yourself:3

_Midnightprowler: _Aww, my ego raised so much with your review XD Rawr, I'm glad you like how I am portraying Draco, as sometimes I feel that he is getting too weak...but nyohoho, that will change, mark my words! As for Draco's drastic actions, it is understandable as he was pretty much straddling the fence between both sides of the war. Harry's betrayal merely pushed him over to Voldemort. Also, due to his inexperience in love, he takes everything much more literally and that in itself can drive people to do drastic things. (Ya know...the whole "IMMA KEEL MYSELF NUUU! T-T" thing?)

_MelissaSue: _Haha, good point. I actually haven't thought about that, lol. What I was thinking was more along the lines of "Voldemort's still around, so they can't die yet!" Great observation though o.o;

_iNsAnE nO bAkA:_ Lol –sticks iNsAnE nO bAkA into St. Mungo's with HPDM- Yarr, the fluff at the end...I couldn't resist sticking a sappy moment in T-T; This one has quite a bit more fluff though, although other than that I consider the chapter somewhat bland D: Where's the angst?! The darkness!? The gore?! –rolls around in agony-

_SpeechlessQuestion: _Haha, who needs breakfast? Just sleep until lunch, and miss that instead! Bahahaha –coughs- Rawr, hope you didn't miss any lovely food munchies when you read this chapter XD

_Mirokuluver's Friend: _Updated! Weeeeee...

_Moonylovesme: _Yea, I was tempted to just end it and make an epilogue, but the show much go on:D Rawr, hope it hasn't taken a turn for the worse though o.o

_Devinnetjuh: _Updated Updated Updated Updated Updated! ;D

_Ater Phasma:_ GAAH! –bapped to death by Ater Phasma- Haha, another disgustingly slow update. I admit though, I update light-hearted chapters much slower because I feel rather awkward while writing them x.x; Hope I don't get any bappies for making HPDM live again:D? And plus, they're together! Oh, and by the way, I got an idea from your review and made a little scene about Draco using Harry's name XD I never realized Draco stopped calling Harry that lol. Hope I have returned into your good graces! XD


	13. Daily Prophet

**A/N:** I've been indulging myself in HPDM YouTube Video clips...I am in LOVE! ;D Anyhoo, this is a chapter where HPDM begin to grow stronger not only together, but as individuals as well...or at least that is what I am aiming for -.-; Yet another non-angsty chapter...D:

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**The Prophecy:** Dark encounters light, either canceling existence or blending into dusk; destroying prophecies or completing fate.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco dwell behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

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**Masquerade – Daily Prophet**

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**Previously:**

_In our state of carnal desire, we fail to hear the distinct 'Click!' of a certain camera, nor do we see the object equipped with the latest "Maximum Proximity!" lenses. These special lenses allowed the user to magnify objects from miles away, and it was currently perched happily on a certain window of Hogwarts. _

_The photographer laughs, giddy with the sudden discovery._

"_This is going to make me one wealthy bloke..."_

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**Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Fraternizes with You-Know-Who's Right Hand Man!**

_Below is a picture of Deatheater Draco Malfoy eagerly engaging with our hero on a nightly visit in the Forbidden Forest._

After the brutal battle in front of Hogwarts which left hundreds destroyed, Harry Potter was pronounced dead and removed to St. Mungo's. One may ask, why was he not given a proper funeral? Truthfully, Harry Potter was wrapped up in a volatile shield with the equally dead Deatheater Draco Malfoy and the two could not be separated. Their corpses were to be separated before giving Potter the proper funeral. However, a week of shoddy results and horrible miscalculations, the two woke up on their own!

Later, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore insisted that Draco Malfoy was not a Deatheater, revealing that he was actually a spy for the Order. Malfoy had feinted the death of Potter to prevent more harm from being done, and the two released a massive shield of some sorts to win the battle. Soon after, the two have been, according to several Hogwarts students, "acting strange and seemed almost intimately close."

Finally, due to a wonderful, mysterious photographer, a photo was shot of the two relaxing on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy look vastly different from their image before the battle, but could this be because of the notorious Half prophecy that had been laying around for ages? The public has been in a crazed outrage upon mere hints that our dear Hero could be dating an enemy, much less an enemy of the same gender.

All in all, the fact remains that Harry Potter, the most famous figure in the wizarding world, is now taken by long-time rival Draco Malfoy!

_Rita Skeeter._

_For more on Halves and the Half prophecy, see page 4D._

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I look at the vivid picture on the front of the Daily Prophet. On the tiny square, Draco was facing me, smiling grandly before leaning in for a kiss; a deep snog which was obviously very heated from the way our hands roamed across each other's bodies and how the Slytherin ran his slender fingers desperately through my untamed hair. Nudging the blond awake—he was sleeping next to me—I present him with the article.

"Oh no. No, no, no," Draco moans, paling considerably as he shakes his head frantically. "Not only am I going to be a traitor in Lucius's eyes, but also a poof who can't even produce an heir."

"Is that all you can think about? I thought your father would have disowned you regardless of your preference," I say irritably.

My lover raises his head defiantly. "He'd keep me, if only to ensure the continuation of the Malfoy blood."

"But what about the public?" I remind him. "Blaise and Pansy now know about us, as well as the entire world."

"We could say the photographer made it up; after all, our real forms look very different from our illusions. Speaking of which, I think I know which nosy wanker took our picture...Colin Creevey is _not_ going to feel safe until he graduates."

"No."

"No?" the Slytherin pouts. "Harry, I knew you were going to be a little goody goody about this."

"I wasn't talking about that." The words spill from my mouth and a plan forms in my mind. "Let's come out of the broom closet, Draco."

The blond sputters in shock. "Wh-What!" he hollers. "Listen, Scarhead, I know you've been raised by Muggles, but the entire wizarding world absolutely _cannot_ tolerate our kind; even the half-bloods are disgusted! We're considered to be lower than Squibs, do you understand?"

"I know; the Muggle world feels the same way. In fact, they even think we have some sort of disease." Looking into Draco's terrified eyes, I smile and lean over to nuzzle his cheek. "I'm sick of running. We have been hiding behind our illusions and our bloody masks for Merlin knows how long, and I'm tired of it. Please, let's just face the world and move on."

The boy beside me sighs resignedly, raising his arm to brush the messy fringe from my eyes. "Always the courageous Gryffindor, aren't you?"

Pecking Malfoy on the lips, I grin. "Let's go down to breakfast; it is time to show Hogwarts that I am not a bloody angelic hero and you are not an apathetic block of ice."

"Who said I was a bloody block of ice?" Draco sniffs indignantly. "I am the Ice _Prince, _an aesthetic statue of power."

"Whatever you say, Malfoy."

"Do shut up, Potter."

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We walk side by side, my arm brushing softly against his as I make sure my Snape-like swagger gives my robes the maximum swirl. Students turn their gazes away from us as we walk past, their hushed murmurs filled with bigotry and prejudice. Some of the lower years cower away from our path as we stride near them, scurrying away as if the air we breathe was tinged with disease.

A seventh year Ravenclaw dares to look up from his book and toss several taunts into our determined faces. I give him my patented Malfoy glare, snarling satisfactorily as his face drains of color. We stop in front of the Great Hall, unable to take a step further. Abruptly, Harry grabs my hand and holds it tightly.

Looking at me, he murmurs, "Are you ready?"

I return his gaze, gently taking off his spectacles and staring in awe as the illusion wears off. He in turn removes my Malfoy signet ring and I sigh as I feel my true self emerge.

"Now I am."

On the unspoken count of three, we burst through the doors, watching the entire hall freeze. One of the students—a Hufflepuff—stares at us with open jaws, holding a syrup pitcher haphazardly as the liquid sugar drips into his pumpkin juice. Another Ravenclaw pauses with a spoon halfway into her mouth, unable to move.

I glance over to see Harry—_my_ Harry, clench his jaws and continue walking, towing me behind. Hogwarts abruptly explodes into a mass riot of noise and astonishment when everyone sees our joined hands, grumbling to each other about how the Daily Prophet was right. Keeping my look calm and reserved, I coolly turn towards Colin Creevey, who was cowering beneath his stack of scones.

_You are in big trouble, Colin Creevey; watch your back._ I tell him with a sneer, causing him to choke. Smirking, I glance towards Harry again.

He looks nothing like the old Gryffindor shell of the past; a determined gleam shining in his golden eyes and messy hair dripping seductively over his face. A dark aura, one which screamed 'Do not touch me,' spreads from every pore of his body. I stand proudly by my sinister Harry, icy indifference tinged with an 'I know that you know and I don't care,' gaze stamped over my own features.

Ron leaps from the Gryffindor table, pointing at the Daily Prophet and giving us a silent warning. Harry nods in understanding, and both Weasley and Granger join us at the wall. Clutching Harry's hand, I casually transfigure the wall into a small stone table with an attached bench, gasps emitting from the Hall about my apparent use of wandless magic.

I smirk at them, eyeing several viciously and daring them to speak out before releasing my hold on Potter. He sits down and scoots to the end, pulling me roughly into his lap. My eyes shoot open and I scowl at his show of dominance. The Gryffindor returns my look with a superior smirk, wrapping his arms possessively and exaggeratedly around me.

_So he is playing it that way._

Harry was letting our peers know that the Daily Prophet had not lied; yes, he and I are dating. However, I doubt that he needed to do anything at all, as some students have already fainted in fear at are new, strange forms. Surprisingly, I hear the words "monster" and "disgusting arse-bandits" from the Gryffindor table as the Ravenclaw side murmurs on about how we have a contagious disease.

I feel Harry's bold lips on my neck and look up to see a flustered Ron. Smirking at the red head, I cast a casual glance towards my Gryffindor.

"_It really is a shame you were not in Slytherin."_

Before the Gryffindor could respond, a flurry of owls burst through the windows, each holding envelopes of red and white. Most of them, unfortunately, were red and shouts fill the room as we hastily open the Howlers.

"HOW CAN WE ENTRUST THE WORLD TO A POOFTER? YOU WILL ONLY INFECT US WITH YOUR DISGUSTING FILTH!-"

"-AND WITH A DEATHEATER NO LESS! I ALWAYS KNEW YOU-KNOW-WHO WOULD BE STRANGE, BUT I NEVER IMAGINED OUR SAVIOR WOULD BE TOO!"

"YOUR PARENTS MUST BE ROLLING IN THEIR GRAVES! YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE DISAPPOINTMENT-"

"YOU, AND THE REST OF YOUR KIND, ARE ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING! I'D ASK EVERYONE TO WATCH THEIR BACKS IN THE SHOWERS, BECAUSE WHO KNOWS WHAT THIS DIRTY BENDER WILL DO?"

We were not able to open some of the Howlers in time, but luckily I raised a shield quick enough to protect me, Harry, Ron, and Hermione from the explosion. Not surprisingly, many of the letters were also quite violent (some had been charmed to bite our hands off!)

"_Mr. Potter, I am sure that once you have met our darling Rosaline you will realize how absurd you are being-"_

"_Oh my dear, dear Harry Potter, you are my hero and I have every single one of your pictures from the magazines and newspapers. I know _everything_ about you, which is why I know you are not a nancy boy. The Deatheater bum chum must have toggled with your normally brilliant mind, but if you send me a reply, I will meet with you and 'cure' you of the spell..."_

"_Mr. Potter, I understand that the pressures of the wizarding world may affect your mind, but surely this is a grave error. As I am certain that there are other letters with reasons better than my own, I only remind you of this: Surely you would like an heir to the Potter line, if nothing else? As a parent myself, I am certain that the noble James and Lily Potter would also like to see a continuation in the great line of-"_

"This is absolute rubbish!" I scowl, crumpling the papers and burning them in my fists. "Not to mention that I have more Howlers than you!"

I had just finished deafening my eardrums from a loud Howler containing a nasally woman, screeching at me for being a Deatheater who hexed her "Darling Harry" over to the Dark Lord's side. Harry glances over at my own scathing letters sympathetically, patting me on the head.

"Need me to make you feel better?" he purrs, loud enough for most of the people around us to hear. Their shoulders tense and they suddenly cannot look away from their food. Rolling my eyes at the laughing Boy-Who-Lived, I reach over for a slice of bread. Just as I finish putting it onto my empty plate, a ragged group of Harry's precious Housemates march over to our table.

Crossing her arms, Lavender Brown stands proudly in the center of the nervous bunch, eyes narrowed in the most determinate manner. Parvati taps her foot impatiently to at Brown's right and Neville, Seamus, and Dean nervously hang in the back.

Clearing her throat, Lavender begins her speech. "Harry, just what do you think you are doing?"

"What do you mean?" Harry responds, absently sipping on his pumpkin juice. Lavender makes an exasperated sigh, throwing her hands in the air and gesturing madly in my direction.

"You're the _Boy-Who-Lived_," she hisses. "You need to realize that you have regulations."

Setting his goblet down, Harry glances into the furious eyes of Lavender. "And whatever would that be?"

The petty lass looks smug. "First, you need an heir! The Potter line must continue and engaging in such...erroneous acts will do nothing to give you a child! Besides, you must realize that almost any witch in the world will willingly give themselves to you! You are our _hero_, Harry, please understand that we are only telling you this for your own good; your reputation is at stake!"

"No."

"Wh-what?" Lavender looks taken back, glancing at Parvati for help.

"Believe us, Harry," Patil pleads. "This...this _stage_ of life you are in...it is not right! Both Muggles and Purebloods disagree with this sort of lifestyle, and there must be a reason for it! I am sure you just haven't found the right girl-"

"I said _NO!_" Potter abruptly shouts, stopping the Gryffindor girl mid-speech. "I'm sick of all of you telling me what I can and cannot do; I never _wanted_ to be the blooming Boy-Who-Lived! I am just a normal boy who wants to live his life the way _he_ decides!"

"So I don't care anymore," Potter presses. "I don't want to run away and hide behind the innocent mask I have been wearing for _years_! Think what you want, but this is who I am."

Taking me by the hand, Harry storms away, leaving the entire Great Hall in silence once again.

"The students must be choking on their food from the un-Harry-like display you just put on," I smirk with amusement, glancing at the back of my lover.

"They can bugger off," he growls. "I never thought that, of all people, my own _House_ would turn against me."

"Not only that," I tell him. "The whole world will be after us."

"But the Slytherins have done nothing to you," Harry whines. I quell my troubled conscience, looking away from the boy. I knew the Slytherins would not be as forward and direct as the Gryffindors; we are too cunning and sly. So what would they do-

"Speak of the devil," Potter mutters. "Parkinson, Zabini, what do you want?"

Blaise's face had a hurt look to it, bags hanging from his mournful eyes. Pansy, on the other hand, was absolutely livid.

"Draco Malfoy!" she screeches. "So is this the reason why you've led us into Death's jaws? Because of a fleeting fancy?"

"I told you I never meant to," I tell her calmly. "Besides, he is no mere fancy."

"He is a _man_," she whispers harshly, poking her long nails into my chest. "He is _Harry Potter_, the boy we had been bred to despise and destroy."

"Our families were wrong!" I sneer at her. "Or has your Deatheater experience not taught you that lesson?"

Parkinson looks shocked, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. "I-I can't believe you!" she spits, dragging her mute boyfriend with her hand. It then occurred to me that Blaise had not yet voiced his opinion. Nevertheless, Pansy's outburst must have been the same outrage that the other Slytherins felt for me.

"All right?" Harry quietly asks me. I nod curtly at him and we make our way to the Potions classroom. Snape was already present, looking over an enormous book of ingredients.

"Mr. Malfoy," my Godfather says impassively. "You and Mr. Potter never cease to confound me."

I raise a brow. "Is that all you are going to say, Professor Snape?" I demand. "Truth be told, I was expecting you to reprimand me and threaten me with my father."

"I will do no such thing," Severus interrupts. "I am fairly certain Lucius already knows."

A chill runs down my spine. "Then why hasn't he done anything yet?"

The Potions professor looks up from his book, striding slowly over to my seat next to Harry. "You must be wary," he whispers to me. "And know that I will always be on your side."

I felt a surge of hidden love flow through my body at his words, the affectionate emotion soaring through my body at the knowledge that I had at least one supporter. I felt a flicker of gratitude from Harry and I knew that he too saw my Godfather in a new light. A lump lodges itself in my throat and my eyes begin to blink back a burning sensation.

"Th-thank you, Professor Snape," I choke, dipping my head in acknowledgement. The man nods grimly, turning around to finish preparing for class.

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Although I welcomed a change from the usual "I adore you, my hero" looks from my peers, but having constant glares directed my way was not all that great. Muttering darkly about the many ways I was going to incapacitate Colin Creevey, I walk Draco to his next class, growling at random students that stood in my way.

Telling Hermione and Ron that I will see them in class, we part ways, but not before my two best mates make a loud comment about how immature the rest of the school is being. Having such loyal friends makes me feel grateful, but that just reminds me of what Draco is missing. He may have Snape as a supporter, but the professor cannot guard the young Slytherin from his enemies at all times. In fact, if I was correct, the only reason that Draco's Housemates had not harassed him yet was because they were planning something more sinister and deadly.

Feeling for Draco's hand, I grab it tightly and lean over the blond to whisper in his ear.

"Will you be all right tonight?"

"Of course," he says stiffly. "But let me know when I can apparate to you."

Noticing his awkward demeanor, I place an arm around the Slytherin's shoulders. He does not acknowledge it, pretending that it isn't there as we walk through the halls. Frowning at his remote and distant attitude, I say to him, "What's wrong?"

He whips towards him, lashing out fiercely with his words. "There is absolutely nothing wrong, now will you stop pestering me with your motherly concern?" I drop my arm, stung, and Draco seems to realize his snappy behavior. Looking sincerely regretful, he dips his head towards the ground in apology.

"I am sorry, Harry," he mutters, trying hard to spit out the words—it was unlike a Malfoy to apologize—and he grabs a hold of my arm. "I am just nervous of what the Slytherins are planning."

I smile sympathetically at Draco. "Would you like to stay over in my room after dinner?" I offer. "I am sure Ron and I could hide you until the rest of the Gryffindors are asleep."

Thinking for a moment, Draco slowly shakes his head. "No, I think I would be best if I remained in the Slytherin dungeons; going to your room would make me seem like a coward."

His pale hand trembles slightly as he says those words, as if he knows something is going to happen. Patting him reassuringly on the back, I drop him off at Arithmancy, bumping into a few Ravenclaws when I step into the room. They sneer at me with knowing glances, daring me to tell them that my preference was right.

Glaring back, I say nothing, smirking at them as I kiss Draco farewell. The Ravenclaws look disgusted, scowling at my actions before turning back to their notes. My lover smiles tightly and walks cautiously to the Slytherin side of the room, where his Housemates were surreptitiously ignoring him.

Even as Malfoy slowly sits down and takes out his belongings, the Slytherins carry on with their chatter, seemingly unaware of the boy who had just mingled in their midst. I furrow my brows, wondering if there was any sort of precautions I could take to protect Draco. Walking back, someone taps me on the back with a book and I turn around.

Padma Patil stands determinately behind me, a frown on her face and a strange gleam in her eye. "My sister says you and that Malfoy Deatheater are lovers," she spits. I glance coolly at her, golden eyes flickering as I stare into her face.

"Draco is no Deatheater."

"Maybe he is and you have joined the Dark Lord with him," she accuses, jabbing me again with her book. "Perhaps you are not the Savior of the world, but rather a traitorous rat with the Dark Mark."

My ears burn at her malicious words and my tone becomes frigid and stiff. "Why would you concoct such a blasphemous story?"

She sniffs, flashing me a triumphant smile and flipping her hair in a manner she probably deemed beautiful. "Harry, I am a Ravenclaw; all of us know that you could have any young lass gracing these halls, but instead you choose the lowest of the low—a Deatheater boy. There must be something wrong."

"I think _you're_ the one in the wrong."

"Harry," she purrs, sidling up beside me. "Relieve yourself of Malfoy and be with me. I can guarantee you that I will teach you everything you need to know about women and you will love every moment of it."

She places a hand on my arm and I flinch at her boldness. Laughing, she bats her eyelashes in my face. "Besides, it would do no good to the Boy-Who-Lived's reputation if you were to declare yourself celibate of girls."

Anger snaps behind my eyelids, exploding in a pang of red fireworks and blinding light. I snarl, giving the girl a glimpse of my sharpened canines before slamming her against the wall. She emits a small squeak, quivering in fear of my flashing gold-green eyes.

"Don't you _dare_ use that on me," I snarl. "You have no idea just _how_ much I wish I was not the bloody Boy-Who-Lived and I do not care what anyone thinks of me but Draco. The sneaky rat is _you_, Padma, for trying to lure me into your filthy arms like a disgusting slag."

Her terrified mouth is too frozen to speak, so I drop her unceremoniously to the floor. Lying on the stony ground, she continues to tremble, unable to make a sound. "Do stop your sniveling," I coldly inform her. "And run along to Arithmancy; Ravenclaws don't like to miss class, do they?"

I spin around on my heel and begin to walk off, stopping only when I hear the next words.

"The old Harry I used to know would never behave like this," Patil whispers, clutching the hem of her robes on the floor. "The Harry all of us used to know was _never_ like this!"

Without turning around, I tell her briskly, "None of you ever knew 'Harry.' The one you all saw was a fraud, living in this world solely to appease fools like you; never talk to me again."

I walk away, adrenaline still rushing through my head at the encounter.

"_Harry, what happened? You were so angry even I felt it!" _Draco suddenly tells me from my mind.

"_Just got ambushed by a Ravenclaw,"_ I murmur to him. "_I set her straight though."_

"_Ah, stubborn lass tried to tempt you, did she?"_ Malfoy chuckles. "_Honestly Harry, that's the fifth girl who has approached you."_

"_Yea, and she's also the fifth girl to insult you and my values, talking to me like she really knew me," _I mutter darkly. _"Now I am late for Divinations because of her."_

I can tell Draco is smiling by his amused tone. _"Just tell Professor Trelawney you collapsed in a prophetic seizure—if that is even possible; she will be more than impressed."_

Chuckling with the Slytherin, my spirits are raised slightly and I ask the boy, "_I will see you tonight?"_

"_Of course, Harry, just remember to tell me when."_

Stepping through the door to Divinations, I could not help but suppress a wide grin; at this rate, nothing can go wrong, can it?

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I sprawl across the table, furiously scribbling on a parchment to complete my Ancient Runes essay. Quickly telling Harry that I am in the library and that I will be skipping dinner, I raise a hand to rub my aching temples. The past few days had been extremely stressful with the aloof attitude of my Housemates and I had to be wary.

Rubbing my eyes, I let out a strangled yawn, pack my belongings, and begin to wander back to the dungeons. The trip back was eerily silent; a calm before the storm which made the hairs on my body bristle unnaturally. All of my senses scream to me that something was wrong, but I am unable to pinpoint the area at fault.

I sigh and open the portrait to the Slytherin common room, briskly stepping inside. Suddenly, an owl barrels into me, bruising my jaw. I curse the foul bird, snatching the note from its leg as it gives an indignant hoot. I angrily unfold the parchment, making a mental note to hex whoever was foolish enough to send such an incompetent owl.

_Draco,_

_Meet me in the Astronomy Tower as soon as possible...this is urgent!_

_Harry._

I reread the letter, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

_Why didn't he mind-talk to me about this? What made it necessary for him to use an owl?_

I look over the piece of paper again, noticing other oddities.

_Harry doesn't even write like this!_

It had to be a trap; the time for the Slytherin's brutal taunts had come and Draco Malfoy was to be their newest victim. My mind debates on whether or not to inform Harry, as well as whether or not I should go.

_Why tell Harry when I can handle this on my own?_ I bristle at the thought of asking for help. My inferior form, as compared to the taller, stronger Gryffindor, had irked me enough that I felt as if requesting assistance—especially from Harry—would be like admitting that I was a weak pitiful whelp.

_But should I go?_

I continue to turn the question in my mind, reviewing the pros and cons. There were an awful lot of cons, ranging from murdering the entire House to being humiliated beyond repair. However, before I realized it, my feet had already climbed the stairs of the tower and I stood before the wide doorway. The wind blows through my thin robes and smothers my petite body, forcing me to shudder. Taking a deep, chilly breath, I push the doors open and step inside.

...Only to be knocked gracelessly onto the stone floor.

Stifling a cry of surprise, I stumble upwards to stand, only to be knocked down again. Staying on the ground, I wipe the blood from my lip as I stare into the eyes of my attackers. The entire Slytherin House, minus the first and second years, seemed to be looming over me.

"I knew he would come," a voice shouts proudly over the mass. "He's Harry Potter's lapdog now."

A fifth year digs his shoe into my form, forcing me to gasp. "So how does it feel to be in a hero's bed, Malfoy?" he sneers. "Does his fame entice you enough to disrespect your pureblood status by sleeping with a half-Mudblood?"

"That is enough." Vincent Crabbe's voice grimly pierces through the riot. He stands in front of me, arms crossed as he stares harshly at my hunched form. I stare unbelievably at the hulking body, wondering just how the lump of muscle got to his position.

"So you're the leader now," I sneer. "Never knew you had it in you, Crabbe."

He ignores me, shifting his leg casually. "I assume you are still Slytherin enough to understand why we are doing this, Draco."

"Naturally; you all like being blinkered prats," I snarl. Vincent flinches, raising his huge hand to strike me.

"_Draco! What is going on? My entire body smarts—are you in a fight?"_ Harry screams worriedly into my mind.

The blow hits the side of my face and I fall over, spitting blood when I manage to sit up. Harry snarls in anger.

"_Are the Slytherins doing this to you? Let me apparate over-"_

"_**Don't.**_" I firmly tell the boy. _"This is a Slytherin affair."_

Harry's shocked silence gives me something to contemplate as my Housemates join in on the fray, pulling and scratching at my bruised body.

"_Why aren't you fighting back?" _the Gryffindor whispers brokenly after a moment, and I snarl when I realize that Harry was looking through my eyes. My eyelids close immediately, shutting both my lover and I into darkness.

"Look, the little ponce is too scared to open his eyes," a voice laughs.

"I bet his eyes widen when he looks at us in the showers," another sneers. The Slytherins make a loud ruckus, whooping and laughing as they continue to pound my body.

"_...I can't stand this; I'm coming-"_

"_**I said no!**_" I shout back, my anger blowing its way through the Gryffindor's mind. _"I need to handle this alone."_

"_But you are just allowing them to flog you senseless!"_ Harry shouts back, his own frustration bursting through my mind. "_You think I cannot hear what they are saying to you right now? Why do you let this continue when you can easily stop this?"_

I tell the brunette nothing, raising my scratched arms to shield my mottled face. Even with all the assurance I had gotten from Potter and his friends, my own Malfoy-bred conscience had continued to nag at me, tearing my mind to pieces.

"_Why?"_ the Gryffindor near-sobs. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, not even allowing the slightest bit of light through the thin piece of flesh.

_Because I deserve it._

I had allowed myself to veer from the pureblood ways by daring to rebel against my parents, rejecting my family's allegiances, preventing my lineage from continuing by loving a man, and many other dire rules. Most of all, I had betrayed the trust my fellow peers had held for me and misled my two best friends.

_It really is my fault._

Flashbacks of the Slytherins and I causing mischief and other fun memories make their way into my mind. Perhaps it would be best if I let my Housemates do what they will with me as repentance. This way, I will not antagonize my peers further and the Slytherins will be able to redeem their down-spiraling reputation.

My eyes shoot open when a boot connects with my stomach and hidden around the mass of green, silver, and black cloths, I find Pansy and Blaise. They both stand at the outer edge of the mob with their backs pressed against the wall. I search their faces for any signs of regret or pain, yet their impassive faces held nothing.

**Nothing.**

I unconsciously allow a rage-filled snarl leave my lips, stunning the Slytherins for a time's breath. My pale, bloodied fists clench together, trembling with force as my muscles tense in anger.

_How **dare** they?_

I was their friend; I cared for them and I had believed that they reciprocated my feelings. _I_ was the one who comforted Pansy on her latest break up, _I_ was the one who lost sleep tutoring Blaise! Who else supported them through hard times like I had? Yet here I was, allowing them to beat me bloody to the ground with no resistance as they stand _watching_? Nay, even worse, watching with blank faces that showed no recognition of the one who had cared so much for them!

Not only that, it was true that I had misled them, but it was all a bad, misjudged error. Surely I had suffered enough through that as well? I could hear dimly hear Harry calling out at my pain as the Slytherins continue to bash me, reminding me that not only were they hurting me, but my lover as well.

It was all too much.

"That. Is. **ENOUGH!**" I scream ferociously, a wave of wandless magic bursting through my angered form and knocking my Housemates back. They collapse onto the icy ground, some unlucky bodies smashing into the wall.

Looking at each other nervously, Vincent grits his teeth and roughly stands. "He is merely bluffing us!" he shouts, urging my peers to continue beating me.

_Have they no shame?_

I stagger up, forcing my aching body to stand regal and proud; a pose my mother had taught me long ago which projected subtle threat and danger. My golden-silver orbs blaze ferociously, and I could almost taste the fear emanating from my blinkered peers.

"_You wanted to watch, Potter? Come, I invite you."_

"None of you knew anything about me," I tell them dangerously, tone low and smooth. "None of you even knew that I was a Half."

Taking a step towards the wary Slytherins, I grace them with a smirk full of sharpened teeth.

"Allow me to show you what I truly am."

With my Half training and natural creature-like instinct, I smoothly roll to the floor, retrieving my wand from its fallen place. My Housemates have whipped out their own wands at that point as well and they were firing all sorts of curses at me, some daring to use Dark magic and Unforgivables.

I scoff at their efforts, dodging easily and shocking them with my fluid agility. Knocking a few out with well-placed kicks and fists, I petrify another handful of Slytherins. I cackle in glee as their faces transform from one of triumph to one of terror.

"Some of you fought in the last battle," I acknowledge. "But I can assure you that none of you had my experience or training."

Hissing, I cast '_Protego!_', efficiently blocking most spells as I leap off the wall and stupefy more of my Housemates. If I had truly been out to kill, this would have been a massacre.

Vincent Crabbe stares into the tip of my wand, crossing his eyes disgustingly as I hold it at his forehead. The others look at him, frozen in spot and refusing to help their comrade.

"Is this what you wanted me to be, like you?" I snap to him. "A cowardly Slytherin who does not even have enough sense to pick the right fights?"

I prod the trembling boy with my wand, causing him to yelp in terror. "Go," I order, and the ones who are capable of leaving immediately dash to their rooms. Pansy and Blaise are the only ones who walk shakily away, faces slack-jawed in a daze.

Before they take a step, I order them to stay. Unable to do anything else, they comply, their bodies contorted through shame and humiliation.

"I know that I have wronged you two," I say clearly. "And you must understand how regretful I am. However, I have always considered you lot as my friends, and if you had ever felt the same towards me-"

"-then realize that **friends don't blame each other when things go wrong.**"

I scoot closer to the two, watching them hold their breaths at my harsh voice. "You knew that I never wanted you to witness the atrocities of war and that you had joined to support your fellow mate in his time of need. You knew that it was no fault of mine for what had happened."

Pulling up my sleeves, I slide a sharpened nail over both my arms, allowing the blood to trickle freely over my pale hands for the ancient pureblood custom. The crimson liquid flows past my wrists, entwining themselves and melding onto the tips of my fingers before splashing loudly onto the hard stone.

"I have washed my hands clean of both of you," I tell them quietly, watching their backs stiffen at my words. "I want nothing to do with either of you ever again."

"Leave."

They go without a sound, shuffling unceremoniously down the corridor. I sigh and lean against the wall, observing the fallen bodies around me.

"_Draco? Is the party over?"_ Harry whines from my head. _"Can I apparate over now?"_

"_I thought the goody Gryffindor would be running to Dumbledore about this, not wanting to join in," _I tiredly tease. _"Merlin, I never realized how weak I had become."_

Harry apparates over as I count the bodies lying unconscious or frozen in the tower. He pulls me close to him and I relax into his comforting, warm body. My wounds begin to glow dimly, disappearing into flawless skin.

"I am sorry that you had to suffer my pain," I murmur to the Gryffindor. He shakes his head, lifting my sleeves to kiss the cuts on my bruised arm.

"It helped me know what was going on," he solemnly says, watching the flesh meld and heal. "Did you know that your Dark Mark is gone?"

"What?" my head jolts up and I rip at my left sleeve. "Bloody Mordred, you're right! When did that happen?"

"I noticed it before we left the St. Mungo's," Harry informs me. "It must have healed when we became One."

"How intriguing," I remark, patting the soft skin on my arm. "I really do enjoy our Half magic sometimes."

"Indeed." Harry nuzzles my face and I feel the throbbing of my cut lip ease and melt away. "Can these fools hear us?" he suddenly asks, glaring at a fallen Slytherin who had moaned in pain.

"Yes, they can," I tell him, nudging a body with my foot. "Fancy going to the Headmaster with me to inform him of this situation? I don't like seeing the old bloke, even if he _did_ help me greatly."

Potter chuckles, grinning widely.

"I am glad you are all right, Draco."

"...So am I, Harry."

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**AN: **Merlin, that took forever! And this is a short chapter too. Why did it take so long, you ask? Well, I have many excuses, and I think what I say is not going to matter -.-; Although I admit that I have taken a few hours off to type another angst filled HPDM fic (its almost pure angst I think, since I was feeling particularly down after a rather hurtful argument). Other than that, none other excuses are worthy enough to note down, so eeps! –crawls under a hole and hides-

**PS (edit):** Aw man! I originally used Theodore Nott instead of Vincent Crabbe as the main villain, since I somewhat pity Crabbe and Goyle, but I forgot that Theo was dead e.e; Hmm, so yea, I changed a few things, hope it still makes sense! (Please tell me if it doesn't) : )

**British Glossary:**

_Slag:_ An offensive word for someone who is flirty; a slut of sorts.

**Next Chapter:**

Did Draco knock any sense into Pansy and Blaise? The whole bloody school is still against them, so what is going to happen? Riot and rebellion ensues! (Sort of...)

**Shout outs:**

_Haunted Emerald Depths: _Haha, Hermione's episode won't be until quite a while, to be honest, and boy has she got a string of bad luck planned for her o.o; Rawr, and yesh, I must think of a sweet revenge against Colin as well...-evil grin- look forward to it next chapter nyohoho...

_EbonyBlack1: _Here's more! Rawr, a load less angst than the last three/four chapters, yesh? X.x;

_Yurikitsune:_ Wee! Lots of long reviews, me likes! XD I'm glad that you also think that Hermione got let off easy and that you support Draco! I was also totally for the poor blond, but many people disagreed. Poops D: Anyhoo, you inspired me to make Hermione's punishment worse...much worse :3 and more logical, since I do agree on your opinion. However, that won't be coming until two or three chapters later o.o; Hmm, well, hope you enjoy this rather light chapter (I'll have to squish in some more angst soon...this lack of angst is driving me crazy! XD; )

_Sima:_ Bah, no worries about spoiling it! I made it obvious on purpose ;D Hope you like this chapter!

_.x.Queen of Darkness.x.:_ Rawr, I try not to make cliches :3 Glad you like it!

_QtShades: _Yarr, feel sorry for Pansy and Blaise while you can, because there will be a big twist on the story next chapter ;D And hrm, I'm expecting quite a lot more chapters (at least five?) so no worries, this story will be going for a while : )

_Crystal Malfoy:_ Yarr! You're like, one out of three people who actually thinks that Hermione was the main villain so far (I happen to agree with you) She'll get some bad stuffs happening to her soon though, so no worries! –cackles-

_Chocola Emo Shizzle: _Aw, why does your stomach hurt? o.o! And lol, yes, a super fluffy chapter for once! XD I suppose this is a pretty mushy chapter too though -.o; and lol! –chases after Chocola Emo Shizzle for his camera- I want a copy of every HPDM picture you've got in there! XD

_Cheezewizz: _...LOL indeed. –drools- I was on earlier looking at HPDM stuffs, and Mordred, I wish I could stick some of those pictures onto my ficcie and say that the photographer took them XD

_Ambroisine:_ Rawr, no need for IRC! There's a wonderful yaoi/Boy's Love website called aarinfantasy, and they host a bajillion stuffs! Just register and then look at the Doujinshi section for Harry Potter—that's how I got mine ;D or did I tell you that already? –scritches head- I have a habit of telling people things twice x.x; Ooh, and I spent hours looking for Kanashii Saga as well. I only managed to find the cover -.-; I think I had to search the japanese Google site for it too! Poopers, I hope someone translates it and posts it up soon! Good luck obtaining Dear Feelings! ;D

_Mirokuluver's Friend: _-pats Mirokuluver's Friend- another light chapter for you :D Hope you enjoyed this, I'm plotting for more darkness later (though there won't be much, so have no fear!) :3

_Stanggirl12: _Aww, thanks! My ego boost just raised like...five bars XD Too bad I'm horrible at non-intense situations...it makes me feel so empty ;-; Rawr. Anyhoo, I'll be continuing this story for quite a while, so look forward to it: )

_DMbranolaHP:_ Lol, Hermione's downfall (sorta) will be in...well, a while from now o.o; And "As Meat Loves Salt" sounds like a weird title, but man, once you start reading, you'll be like "Holy monkeys this stuff is _deep!_" Or...at least I was XD; It was pretty intense –nod nods- unlike this chapter...-glares at lack of angst-

_Ater Phasma: _Yet another fluffy chapter! –is about to die from lack of angst- I suppose you're right about how there must be something happy, but ARGH! ;-; This lack of angst actually prompted me to write another HPDM story that is dedicated to angst-ranting, lol, since I think this story will be pretty light for quite a while. Hope this update wasn't too slow, it was pretty difficult to write T-T;

_Orlandoroxmysox_: Indeed, and I am currently plotting ways to destroy Mr. Creevey during the next few chapters...nyohoho...hope ya enjoy this chapter while I am busy plotting:3

_Miss brownie: _Yar, since I did Harry's POV all of last chapter, I decided to make one with all Draco. I agree with the whole "don't get too mushy!", since I cannot stand it x.x Soooo, please tell me if my chapters ever seem too icky fluffy to you, and you can bet I will jump at the chance to change it! ;D And ooh, I live in NorCal, but that's going to be changing in a month, as I will be moving to the dorms soon! Wewt, dorm shopping bananza! By the way, the weather seems pretty...erratic lately yesh? It was cold, then hot, then cold...-kicks weather-

_Ravencliff:_ Aw, thanks! My goodness, I felt like I had gotten such an ego boost :3 Hope you still enjoy this, even though there is regrettably less angst!

_iNsAnE nO bAkA: _Hahaha, hilarious review :3 Lots of HPDM fluff and lovey dovey goodness! (I'll have to change it soon, won't I? ;D)

_SpeechlessQuestion: _Lol, good question. That point will be brought up soon, next chapter, I hope. Anyhoo, the whole Gryffindor House is currently acting non-loyal right now, theoretically speaking. Let's hope Harry can knock some sense into them, eh? ; )

_Pink-xXx-Kiss: _Colin yesh! Ding ding ding! XD Hope you enjoy this fluff!

_Gbheart: _Lol, ah, I love binging on stories :3 –tears through ninety chaptered stories whenever possible- I hope you enjoy this chapter!

_MelissaSue: _Oh, hrm. I try to make a clear point of the person's PoV by dropping in not-so-subtle hints, but I admit I haven't been looking out for it lately. Argh, thanks for the info, I'll try to make the person speaking more obvious :D And yes, the evil shield of doom! –wields a aluminum sword and runs around randomly- O.o;

_Devinnetjuh: _Good question. O.o; Let's see...-checks outline- I've got about roughly...five chapters? There might be more or less depending on how much detailing I put in, so yarr. I'll tell ya when the last chapter is coming up though : )


	14. A Misguided Fool's Dream

**A/N:** It's been months, I know…life in college has been busy, to say the least. I knew it was going to happen, so I tried to finish this story before summer was over…needless to say it has grown too large to fit within a span of 2 months. I've actually had this chapter since summer, but it had always felt awkward to me—lack of angst and turmoil between HPDM, what can I say? XD This quarter seems much more relaxing though, so hopefully I will be able to start updating again. I can't make any promises of weekly updates, but perhaps once or twice a month? Either way, I will try my hardest—and no, I will never abandon this fanfic, you have my word :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Boo hoo hoo D:

**The Prophecy:** Dark encounters light, either canceling existence or blending into dusk; destroying prophecies or completing fate.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Both Harry and Draco dwell behind masks to hide their true emotions and...physical changes. There is a prophecy where light meets dark. Harry is part of the prophecy, but he suspects Draco as his other half! However, Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...why? Harry/Draco

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**Masquerade – A Misguided Fool's Dream

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A week after Snape assigned nearly all of the Slytherin House detention (under Dumbledore's approval), I lay staring at the ceiling, waiting for Harry to tell me when I could apparate over. The frisky male Gryffindors were having an Exploding Snap Tournament, meaning that everyone would be shouting and squealing into the wee hours of the night. Sighing, I cover myself with my warm blanket, snuggling into its accepting warmth.

My Housemates had been far but apologetic after my violent outburst and have taken to ignoring me, which is admittedly far better than catching me for some moronic torture. Also, I was still in awe over Vincent Crabbe's unexpected show of leadership, glancing repeatedly at the now-talkative lump of muscle. Perhaps it had something to do with his best friend's—Goyle's—death. In addition, Blaise and Pansy have been extremely quiet, not even daring to look at me-

_Speak of the Devil._

The green curtains begin to rustle and I recognize Blaise's cough outside my evening shelter. I quickly close my eyes, feigning sleep as my wary hand slides under the comforter and towards my hidden wand.

_If bloody Zabini tries anything..._

"Draco?" the curious voice whispers into the darkness. I feel two hands place themselves near my side, pressing against the soft mattress. A sigh of relief ensues. "Good, you're asleep."

Now an entire body drops next to me, forcing the bed to groan and bend.

_Merlin's pointy hat, this boy obviously does not know the meaning of stealth._

Ready to sit up and surprise the Slytherin, I freeze when I feel a whispering touch graze my cheek. Blaise continues to stroke the side of my "sleeping" face, trailing nimble fingers down to my pointed chin.

"Why?" he whispers. "Why did you fall for Potter, of all people? Why did you not entrust me with your preference?"

He removes his hand, resting it on my slender arm. "If I had known, if you had told me...things could have been different."

The brunette sighs, letting out a puff of tangible frustration. "I've always admired you, Draco. You were strong, cold, and impenetrable. Most of all, you were noble." Blaise chuckles bitterly. "Of course, that was why I never approached you; I thought you were too pureblood to have such thoughts."

Brushing the hair from my face with tender fingers, I hear Blaise swallow loudly. "I have to continue hiding behind my facade, constantly pretending that I'm completely infatuated with women—it's obvious, isn't it? That I love you."

_Salazar Slytherin!_

"_Draco, you can come over now,"_ Harry's voice interrupts my hearing.

"_Not yet, I think you should listen to this," _I urge my lover.

Blaise, unaware of our exchange, continues to speak. "We were best friends, Draco. It was only natural that our close feelings would turn into something else. If you were with me, I'm sure the rest of our housemates would not be giving us such a hard time; we'd figure something out."

"I really do love you, Draco."

I feel the slight grazes of air on my face and I suddenly realize that Zabini had leaned over. He was going to, he was going to...

"_Bloody hell—he's going to kiss me!"_

A snarl bursts from my bed and the body of the Boy-Who-Lived tackles Blaise into the ground, knocking the air from the stunned boy. Too surprised to struggle, Zabini stares dumbly into Potter's outraged face as I sit up from my bed.

"Harry, you can let go of him," I tell the Gryffindor, casting an uneasy glance at the twitching claws around my ex-friend's terrified neck.

"How _dare_ he try to touch you!" Harry hisses, pointed teeth flashing dangerously. "Catching you unawares, no less!"

Blaise's mouth trembles, trying hard to talk. "You-I...How did you know what was going on? I was sure that no one was in the bed but Draco!"

"You little sneak-"

"Harry, just stop," I demand tiredly, dragging the reluctant Gryffindor off of the scared Slytherin. "Blaise, I was awake the entire time—Deatheater training had obviously done nothing for your stealth."

The Slytherin gets up slowly, head bowed in shame at my stern glance. "I still don't understand," he says sullenly. "I don't care if you heard my confession, but how in Hogwarts did _he_ find out too?"

I glide over to Blaise, crossing my arms in front of him. "You forget that Harry and I aren't your average wizards," I tell him dryly, pointing at my unique set of features. "We share a sort of magic that allows us incredibly intimate connections, something that you and I could never have. No matter how Harry found out, Blaise, it is more important that I make it clear that you and I could never be together."

"How can you be so certain?" the boy argues. "If you had just told me of your preference-"

"You forget that our pureblood kind rejects those sorts of beings," I interrupt. "I would have thought that you would shun me. Either way, I never fancied anyone before I met Harry, so I wouldn't have known."

"But you and Potter are rivals! You _hate_ each other!"

"You're right, or so I thought," I tell Zabini. "But the hate turned into obsession, which soon became lust, then..." I gesture between Harry and I. "Look at us now."

"We had to work through many obstacles to get to where we are," I purse my lips in annoyance. "And it isn't over yet."

Blaise glowers in silence and this time Harry speaks up. "Zabini, I thought you were with Parkinson, why did you play around with your friend like that?"

Slumping against the wall, the faulty Slytherin runs a nervous hand through his dark locks. "What do you think?" he whispers. "I thought Draco was straight as a broomstick, so I tried to forget him through Pansy. Hell, I thought I would be able to get rid of my-my _disease_ with women."

"Your preference is nothing to be afraid of!" Harry forcefully counters. "If you weren't such a coward, maybe things could have been different."

With teary eyes and a trembling lip, Zabini falls ungracefully onto the floor. He put his shaking hands onto his weary head, leaning heavily against his knees. I begin to feel sorry for the boy, not because he had an unrequited love, but because he was one of the many lost souls who had felt pressured—like I once had been—to follow a certain way of life and to walk down a pre-made path in locks and chains.

I warily place a hand upon his heaving shoulders, offering what comfort I can. "Pansy is a good girl," I murmur. "Please refrain from trampling her poor heart."

My friend says nothing, taking deep breaths to regain his composure. "Did I..." he begins. "Did I ever have a chance?"

I look at him, staring and at a loss of words. What was I supposed to say?

"You-You're my best friend, Blaise," I tell him. "You are and always will be that person, nothing else."

He chuckles bitterly, choking on his silent sobs. I glance helplessly at Harry, who also seemed stunned at Zabini's state of vulnerability. I sigh, stepping over to my lover. "Good bye, Blaise."

In front of his wide, startled eyes, I grab onto Harry's arm and together we apparate back to my Gryffindor's room.

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"I need to talk to you," Pansy pushes while tugging at my lover's robe with insistent fingers. He reclines on his transfigured chair, gazing coolly at his former friend.

"After your shameful, prejudiced act against me, I'm surprised you came crawling here at all, Parkinson," he drawls, watching in satisfaction when she flinches at his biting words.

She looks up at him sullenly, hands paused in the folds of Draco's sleeve. "I broke up with Blaise."

"Pity," he says absently, casually sipping his pumpkin juice.

"He told me the truth."

A fine, platinum blond brow raises slightly on the Malfoy's pointed face. "What truth is there to tell?"

"Everything," she replies firmly. "I know why he came to me, what he was hiding—we're still friends, you know."

"Charming," Malfoy continues, never missing a beat. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have no time for utterly discriminate-"

"I came here to apologize!" her voice shrieks in frustration, stopping the blond from his meal. "Salazar, Draco, can't you just hear me out?"

"I see no reason to-" the blond stops again when I put an interfering hand on his arm, urging him to show the female Slytherin an act of mercy. At that moment, Blaise walks next to the girl, giving me an apologetic look.

"Please listen to her," he whispers softly to us. "It is the least I can do to help after all the damage I've done."

Draco cast his hard, cold eyes upon his two childhood mates, skeptically scrutinizing their beings as he reluctantly nods his head in acceptance.

"I-I was blind," Pansy begins. "Like you, I was born and bred in the highest forms of pureblood training, telling me stories of what horrendous monsters came from people like you."

"It became a natural thing for me to recoil from you—even when you had offered me so much assistance in the past—because of what gender you preferred," Parkinson shifts, settling down into another transfigured chair at the wall. "I thought I was in the right; after all, there were few homosexuals in the world, aren't there? That alone must prove that something in their bodies were mistakes, manipulating their minds and contaminating their spirits with strange disease."

She takes a deep breath. "Then Blaise revealed his secret to me."

"Two of the people whom I loved and cherished turned out to be of the same kind. I sat back, believing at first that I had attracted the wrong crowd. However, after careful thinking, I realized that there was nothing wrong with my friends, no matter which gender they were attracted to."

The girl lifts her chin up proudly. "I have accepted my error, and I have the two of you to thank for helping me see my mistake. Will you give me the honor of patching up our relationship and reconciling with each other?"

Draco's soft mouth was slightly agape; his wide eyes staring at Pansy as if a Snitch had found its way into her ears.

"_She's matured,_" I tell my lover. "_Will you give her a chance?"_

Malfoy says nothing, swallowing visibly as he stands up to face the girl. He cautiously takes a hold of her hands, quite aware that the entire school of Hogwarts was watching at this very moment. Giving both of her palms gentle kisses, he murmurs, "I have missed your friendship."

Pansy's own orbs glisten with unshed tears, falling only when she abruptly draws Draco into a tight hug and sobs into his shoulder. Blaise stands off to the side, awkwardly scratching his arm.

Draco looks up, reaching towards Zabini. "My friend, I have missed you as well." The brunette smiles widely, eagerly enveloping both Malfoy and Parkinson into a strong embrace. The three stand together, murmuring comforting words and rejoicing in their reunion.

Almost immediately, the Dining Hall bursts into commotion, Ravenclaws memorizing the new information of Blaise's secret and Slytherins muttering over Blaise and Pansy's supposed betrayal. At that moment, Hermione Granger bursts through the doors of Hogwarts, striding over to our table with shining eyes. Ron follows closely behind, stopping and staring at the strange sight.

Hermione ignores the tight circle of bodies, pushing past them and slamming her palm against the table. "I have alerted the Ministry of Rita Skeeter," she announces. "That wretched woman will not bother us again."

"Wonderful work, 'Mione," I smile genially, laughing when Hermione squawks at the strange group bonding next to her. "Blaise and Pansy will be joining us from now on," I explain, watching Draco untangle himself from his two friends and take his place by my side.

"Our group is growing," my lover announces dramatically, waving his arms extravagantly over the table. Ron, Hermione, Pansy, Blaise, and I all roll our eyes at his grand gesture, picking up our belongings and getting ready to go to class.

"Disperse after I give such a touching speech, why don't you," he whines as I drag him by the arm to class. "Harry, _you_ thought my words were lovely, didn't you?"

I smile affectionately at my precious Slytherin, shaking my head in mock-exasperation as he pouts. He was right; our ragtag group was slowly growing, as were the people who were finally beginning to understand and see homosexuals for who they are, not what type they fancy.

_The movement has finally started._

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"Colin's been looking quite lonely, don't you think?" Hermione says, casually waving her quill towards the isolated Gryffindor.

"Our Gryffindors have finally started to awaken from their biased minds," I murmur back, yawning as Professor Bins lectures on the sixth Goblin War for the third time.

"Not _all_ of our Housemates have awakened," Ron scoffs. "Remember Lavender's little hate group?"

"Lavender may still be a bit distrustful, but everyone else has changed!" Granger argues back as the lecture ends and everyone begins to pack. "Neville's even started talking to some of the students who have come out without squeaking in fear!"

"What a great improvement," Ron rolls his eyes. "Don't forget, Seamus was also—Seamus! And Dean?!"

Hermione and I look sharply at Weasley, whose hair matched his blushing face. In front of him were two bodies, shyly coming apart as the shorter boy anxiously laces his hands with the other.

"I-I thought you were dating Lavender!" Ron exclaims, still confounded by the blatant show of affection between his two Housemates.

"At first I followed Lavender because we were dating," Seamus shrugs. "But later I found out that I play for both teams." He brilliantly smiles at Dean, who shyly grins back in return. "I thank you and your courage, Harry, for inspiring me to come out."

Dean nods in agreement. "Without you, I doubt I would have ever had the nerve to confess to Seamus...and the entire school of what I am."

I look down towards the stone floor, face blushing hotly with all the attention. "I do not need any gratitude," I murmur honestly. "Just acceptance and acknowledgement for who I am."

Seamus smiles knowingly. "As do we all," he agrees. "Which reminds me, there are several Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who would also like to apologize for giving you hardships in the past—some would even like to confess."

Draco rounds the corner, apparently having seen and heard the Gryffindor's confession through my eyes and ears.

"I've had a few speak to me as well," he says dramatically, linking an arm around mine. "Did you know that Rosie Everfest is dating a Slytherin girl? They came and apologized to me just a few minutes ago."

"I never suspected there would be so many homosexuals in Hogwarts," Hermione muses. "This is rather brilliant; no wonder people are beginning to accept homosexuality so quickly."

"What do you mean?" Ron asks with confusion. Hermione rolls her eyes at the oblivious Weasel, clearing her throat for a lecture.

"Many people are beginning to realize that their closest friends and siblings have preferences that are deemed despicable, and through that they are also beginning to realize that like Pansy, friends with such preferences cannot be all bad. They are slowly growing accustomed to the blatant same gender couplings in the halls and their friend's habits."

"And all that with only a few months of alienation," Draco smugly finishes. He glances at me, silver-gold eyes flashing brilliantly. "We are trendsetters, Harry!"

And in a way, I suppose we were. Starting from that day, students continued to come to us with their problems, confessions, and apologies. We no longer needed to sit at the wall, opting to alternate between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables instead.

However, most surprisingly was the Slytherin's sullen acceptance of our kind. Vincent Crabbe's outrageous bias towards homosexuals was found to have grown because of his startling attraction towards his best mate, Gregory Goyle. Vincent had confessed to Goyle the day before the Final Battle, shocking the larger boy. However, before the Goyle could give an answer, he was sent away.

Gregory died in the war, and never knowing if Greg had felt the same for Vincent, the enraged Slytherin blamed his best mate's death on himself, brainwashing his mind to believe that his "disease" cursed others and it would destroy everyone else if he did not put a stop to it.

After his confession, Crabbe had done all in his power to prove to Draco that he was not the mindless, prejudiced beast that he was before.

I lean back onto the grass, staring at the dozing blond next to me. "Two days until Graduation," I whisper into his ear, caressing his soft hair. "Two days until we're free to do what we want."

The Slytherin smiles at my words, opening his mouth to reply—just as a letter splats ungracefully onto his face.

"What in Merlin's name-" he sputters outrageously, shooting straight up and colliding his head with mine. We shout in pain and fall back, just catching the feathered end of the vile bird who had cruelly dropped the parchment onto my lover.

"Isn't that your father's owl?" I ask, blinking at the minute shadow in the sky. Draco curses, glaring at the Malfoy emblem blazing on the paper. "I knew not receiving word from Lucius was too good to be true," he spits harshly, ripping at the letter. I place a hand on his agitated ones, stopping his actions.

"Check it for spells," I warn the boy. "You never know what it could contain."

"I bet it's a bloody letter complaining about my shagging the Boy-Who-Lived and not choking him on the bed after," Draco snarls angrily, waving the letter around. He stops, surprised at his coarse words, and a small button slips through a hole on the parchment and drops into his lap. Immediately, Malfoy gets portkeyed to who-knows-where, leaving me empty-handed and unable to grab onto the boy before he could leave.

"_Draco? Draco!"_ I yell to the blond, hoping in vain that he would answer. However, an unexpected blow of pain smashes into the side of my head, sullenly marking the fact that the Slytherin had been knocked unconscious.

I frantically run to Dumbledore's office, shouting the password and leaping up the stairs, three steps at a time.

"Harry, my boy, what is the problem?" the old man asks, immediately rising from his seat.

"Draco's been taking by Lucius!" I rush. "I need to apparate over and save him, for who knows what that blasted man will do to-"

Dumbledore holds his wrinkled hand up, silencing my frantic ramble. "Calm down and tell me the entire story, Harry," he says familiarly. "I doubt Mr. Malfoy would be harmed during the time you explain to me what has happened."

Grumbling, I wait until Hermione, Ron, Blaise, and Pansy run to the office and quickly retell the tale of Draco's capture. "Now can I apparate to him?" I beg, ready to go even if the Headmaster refused.

"It could be a trap," Pansy tells me harshly. "What if Lucius planned on you coming and prepared a spell that could kill the both of you?"

"That's not possible," I snarl. "Draco and I are much stronger-"

"Draco's unconscious and injured," Hermione retaliates. "Think with your head, not blindly with anger."

My magic swirls uncontrollably above the room, hissing and snapping in erratic motions similar to my barbed anger. Headmaster Dumbledore raises an eyebrow when his shelves begin to shake and I close my eyes, gritting my teeth and forcing myself to calm down.

As much as I hated the sense of uselessness, everyone was right; blindly rushing to Draco would only endanger the both of us, and our connection as One would allow me to know how he fares.

_The only thing I can do right now is to wait until my lover awakens._

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The tinkling of heavy chains reverberates harshly in my throbbing head, and my wrists feel weighted with a cold, harsh metal. The air is dank and the stench of rotten blood and corpses cause my nose to wrinkle.

My lids feel as if they had been sewn shut, so encrusted were they with sweat and grime. I cough, loud wracking noises shaking from my parched throat. Blood trickles down my temple and the tickling sensation turns into a copper taste on my cracked lips.

Tilting my head, I hold back a whimper as I feel my brain seem to crash into my skull. I did not know how long I had lain unconscious in the dungeon that was undoubtedly Lucius's personal torture chamber. Rather, I had hung unconscious, forced upright by chains that painfully dragged my weakened arms upwards towards the moldy stone ceiling.

There is no light, but I could almost feel the amount of ancient dust in the air, coating me with its dirty essence. I try to think again about what I had done to merit a long-term stay in Father's dungeon.

_Was it because I plucked a flower from Mother's garden?_

Nay, he had merely flogged me thirty times with a spell.

"_Please be safe, Draco!"_

That voice sounds familiar, flowing through my mind like soothing ripples in the water. That's right, I am condemned here because of a person...

Dark hair, green-gold orbs, and an aura of fake innocence that I wanted to rip away...

_Was it...was it..._

"Draco."

Lost in my thoughts, I had missed the calm footsteps of Lucius Malfoy.

"You understand why you are here?" he says calmly.

I hesitate, unable to answer as I attempt to lift my head and open my grimy lids. The man in front of me utters a disgusted hiss and cold water disgracefully splashes across my face.

Opening my now-slimy eyes, I blink hazily in the direction of my father. He looks expectant, daring me to please him with words.

"Y-yes, Father," I murmur pathetically, falling into the obedient mask that I had borne through childhood. "I won't do it again, I swear it."

_What in Merlin's name did I do?_

The blond man smiles grandly, savoring his victory. "You understand that you are of Malfoy blood and resorting to such sins are punishable by death?"

_Did I speak to a Muggle—No, Lucius killed the last one I spoke to._

"Of course," I whisper, my face twisted into a sullen, regretful expression of woe. "I am a Malfoy, and Malfoys commit no errors."

"Will you swear a wizard's oath then?" Lucius's stony smile seems more victorious than ever, so exultant was he that his eyes dare to twinkle with such eerie glee.

"Yes."

"Then do so."

My vision fills with tears as dust enters the sensitive area of the eyes. "I swear-I swear a wizard's oath that I will never...never..."

_What am I supposed to be rejecting?_

Lucius frowns as I stumble on my words, unable to speak. "Hurry boy," he orders. "Tell me that you will never speak to Harry Potter again, lest in spite or hatred."

Grey-gold orbs widen.

_Harry Potter!_

"Never!" Words burst from my snarling lips as my memories return to me. "I have done no wrong!"

"_Crucio!"_ Lucius murmurs the spell threateningly, watching in frustration as I scream in pain. "You _will_ do as I say or face death by my hands!"

I chuckle, ignoring the bloody spittle that runs down my curved mouth. "You cannot kill me; you do not know me."

"You are my son," he smoothly replies. "I know you better than you know yourself."

"You never knew what I was."

"You are a Half; a being that the Dark Lord needed and used. Unfortunately, you dared to run away with the enemy and-"

I cackle again, rudely interrupting the man who was my father. "I am Half no longer," I snarl. "You have been following the mask of a child suppressed against his own being for seventeen years."

I lift my head towards the skies, separated were we through layers of stone and dirt. _"Harry!"_ I joyfully call out to my love. "_Harry, are you there?"_

"_Draco!"_ he replies. _"What happened? Where did Lucius take you? Are you all right? I felt the Crucio hit you."_

Smiling, I ignore Lucius's puzzled face. _"I am as fine as anyone could be when hit by an Unforgivable. See through my eyes; I will show you how faulty Lucius is of me."_

"_Would you rather I apparate to your side and destroy the man?"_ my lover darkly asks and I chuckle.

"_I have a better plan in mind."_

"Have you gone mad by such a weak Unforgivable?" Lucius snarls at me, tapping his cane on the floor. "Only an insane Pureblood or one of tainted blood would be such a disgrace to his family."

"Disgrace?" I scoff, spitting at my Father's feet. "Disgrace is a Pureblood who follows a disfigured Lord who could not even kill a mere babe."

"SILENCE!" the man roars. "You will not speak to your Father in such a manner-"

"I speak not to my Father, but to a misguided fool."

_SLAP_

My head whips to the side, pain exploding between my eyes as my throbbing temple connects to the harsh wall. Spitting crimson again from my bloodied gums, I smile at the man, wincing as my cracked, bleeding lips separate.

"Why _Father_," I drawl, mocking him with my air of calmness "I thought it was unbecoming to use physical means of violence."

The older blond raises his angry hand and cane, body trembling with fury. "You have gone mad," he seethes. "You are not my son."

"Your son was a mask who crumbled the moment I took off the foolish disguise," I say confidently, no longer afraid of the oppressor who had chained my true being for years.

"ENOUGH!" Lucius had lost his composure, hair frayed and face in a violent array of angry emotion. "I will disown you and-"

"And what, _Father_?" I crow. "Kill me? You couldn't do it even if you trie-"

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

I smirk one last time into the surprised face of my birth father and close my eyes.

_Goodbye, Father._

Lucius stood as the only living being in the dungeons, panting heavily with exertion. Never before had he wanted to use an Unforgivable so much, not even when he had seen Harry Potter harm his Lord. The tip of his wand still glowed an eerie green from the force of the spell, and Lucius had lost all strength in his exhausted arm.

The slim tool slipped easily from his shaking fingers, clattering onto the dark dungeon grounds. Almost immediately, the blond man's knees gave away, forcing him to kneel and slump onto the dirty ground.

Pale fingers instinctively grasped at the cold, ridged feeling of the stone floor, feeling for the lost reality that he had believed in.

Lucius had lost his only son; his confidence broken and his beliefs shattered. Taking a deep breath, the man wondered once again if he had followed the right path.

He lifted his graceful head.

And saw nothing. There was no body, no soul, not even a disfigured lump of flesh.

Draco had managed to apparate through his anti-apparition_ and_ anti-portkey wards, even daring to flash him a bold, triumphant smile.

Once again, images of Draco as a child running through his mother's garden flashed into the mind of Lucius Malfoy.

When had Lucius began to try brainwashing his own flesh and blood? When had he began to force his family to grovel at the robes of a Lord who cared nothing for them?

…when had Lucius strayed off the path of contentment?

"_You know nothing of me."_

Draco's confident voice shot through the Malfoy's mind, causing him to shiver. His son was right; Lucius's cold acts and cruel methods of breeding had forced Draco to lie and show his own Father a mask, molding himself into a way that would please his father.

Distinctly, Lucius remembered a night when Narcissa had cried upon Draco's bed after a vicious beating.

Was his family always this broken?

_What have I done?_

Lucius realized that he had been living in a dream; a dream where everyone was forced to do his bidding, a dream where he was always right.

Finally awakening from his years of slumber, the man had realized that dreams never come true.

His wife was unhappy and terrified of Lucius, daring to coddle her son only when her husband was not around. His son had put on a mask and deceived his father for nearly eighteen years.

**And it was all his fault.**

Ever since Draco received the Dark Mark, Narcissa had grown distant, face glamoured daily to hide her tear-stained face. The younger male Malfoy had gone to the bed of his enemy, working for the boy who was the bane of the Dark Lord.

Lucius's illusion of a regal, connected family was no more.

Pale, slender fingers slid across smooth wood, tracing the familiar grooves in the glimmering wand. Slowly, the wand was lifted to a sweaty, sticky temple.

A last thought of a smiling Narcissa holding an equally happy Draco flickered into the mind.

_Another dream?_

**Darkness.

* * *

**

**A/N**: So HPDM's struggle in the world is lessening, or at least in Hogwarts. However, the story is not yet over! Voldemort is still lurking around and HPDM will never be safe until he is gone once and for all! Anyway, yea this chapter was another of my "not so angsty" chapters, so it was difficult for me to write and to have a sense of "aaah, what a nice intense chappie except for the end, obviously lol. Hopefully I will be able to update soon! Mrf, the life of a future pre-med engineer is a lot harder than I thought –o-

**Next Chapter:** Lucius is dead, but what of Voldemort? HPDM are graduating next chapter…no drama can arise from that, right?

**Shoutouts:**

Pink-xXx-Kiss: Haha, unfortunately, Colin got left out pretty easily, considering he's only been shunned and a bit…bruised up. We'll see what happens next though, although I'm not quite sure if I should put down Colin even more or not xD;

Dragenphly: Oh for sure…I definitely couldn't leave Harry and Draco as weaklings now, could I? XD They'll be changing the world, starting with Hogwarts!!

Miss Vampira: Updated! Albeit late….

Lorkin: Oh, I could never stop writing this fanfic, no matter how long it's been…it's like…my baby, almost o.o; I'll try to update more regularly, along with my signature long chapters haha

DivineDarkness: Aww, thank you! Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter too!

Sbkar: Huh, I thought I did write "godson"? Or at least that's what it says on my word document thingie…and I changed Theo's name a while back, so it should be fine now  Thanks for looking out for my mistakes!

Cheezewizz: Haha, ah, those good old days of staying up late and reading fanfiction…(which I still do!) I hope you start reading my story again, since I haven't updated in the longest time!

Moonylovesme: Updated…finally! This chapter was a bit rocky for me, but hopefully its turned out to your liking!

Haunted Emerald Depths: Wahaha, Hermione's thing is going to bite her in the butt, but later. Much, much later I'm assuming…the day will come though! For now I'll be picking off all of H/D's enemies one by one…-cackles-

AleMeansWings: Yea, the Rita-Hermione thing was not addressed until this chapter as I wasn't sure of how I would deal with it. Hopefully everything's clarified now though!

MelissaSue: Haha, no worries, it'd be my fault for not writing clearly enough xD Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Miss brownie: Yea, I have a sort of pet peeve against stories which are too unrealistic, so I try to make mine as realistic as possible. Phew, college has been tough on me…I'm going to UC Irvine and my gosh, engineering classes (PHYSICS AGH) are horrid…only thing I seem to be stable in is writing haha

Ater Phasma: Glad you liked it :D And yea, chapters without angst in it are incredibly difficult for me to write, unless I'm writing a complete gag story (which I haven't actually done since…5 years ago) I totally apologize for the late update, but I hope this chapter is to your liking as well!

iNsAnE nO bAkA: Haha, yup, I couldn't resist sticking in a bit of the extra-proud/narcissistic Malfoy-ness into the chapter xD There's less of it in this chapter, but it'll show up again soon…I just can't resist!

Mirokuluver's Friend: Updated! Not soon, but hopefully I'll be updating more regularly…

EbonyBlack1: Haha, you'll see in the upcoming chapters…Such as this one! ;D

Ambroisine: Oooh, I haven't been updated on the good H/D doujinshi out there since school started…anything in particular nowadays? I downloaded a few, but they weren't exactly up to par –o-; and wow, I'm glad you like my Snape…I admit he hasn't had such a big role in this fic, but hopefully I'll get a chance to have him show up more!

miME-chan: Wow, thanks for the compliment…it means a lot to me  And yea, I can't keep track of how many HPDM fics I have read either…they're such an addicting couple! Hmm, there's a few chapters more I believe…depending on how long the chapters are and what else I decide to add onto the story…but so far maybe…3 more chapters?

TheTrueSilver: Thanks! Hope you enjoy this chapter too!

Silver Angel 7: Yea, I didn't want to make Draco suddenly turn into Mr. Goody and I didn't want him a weakling, so I gave him the best of both worlds! Or at least that's how I'm hoping he's being portrayed…Squee, I love Draco xD

Angelkat2502: Haha, this wasn't exactly the soonest update, but I hope you'll still enjoy it!

DarkeningUndine: Lol, bipolar XD and wow, re-reading o.o; I feel really appreciated, since I know how incredibly long my chapters can be x.x Hope you like this chapter 

Crazysguirl: Thanks:D

Jimbocous: I try to make my ideas different from other stories, otherwise I would have had a rampant veela story running around by now hahaha…though I admit I've read so many Veela stories that I have the urge to write one just for the hell of it. –snap out of daydream- Bah, maybe one day…but for now, this fanficcie is definitely going to be my main one!

Yurikitsune: Haha, there's a lot less angst in this one too XD Well, there's little with Lucius, but narf, nothing too bad! And oh ho! Pansy and Blaise's reactions are revealed! Hope it turned out ok…x.x

Kin Pandun: Oh my goodness, yelling at the laptop! O.o Sounds fun wahahha…and yes, I admit, angst is my obsession…hell, most if not all of my favorites are angst lol. I admit I am a pessimistic person, but rawr, I love angst too much to give it up! There's been a lot less of it in these chapters though, so hopefully you won't have as many yelling-fests (though they are quite amusing to hear about…;D)

DMbranolaHP: How weird, your review got cut off o.o All I can read is "Yea! I really" xoX;

Kuraiyoshi: Well, of course it's a calm before the storm of sorts since Voldemort is still at large, but it'll be a while before things get bad I think. Actually, I can't really tell since my chapters are long enough to pass through many events at once so hmmmmmmm!!! We'll see xD And this story won't have M-preg, but I have another story lined up which will…it'll be a comedy/romance! (Gasp! This author is doing _comedy_?! However will she survive?!) Or at least that's how I feel wahahha. As for Ron/Hermione…it'll be much, much later as Hermione's actions aren't quite redeeming enough just yet…all will be well in the end!

Crystal Malfoy: Hahahahahaha I was like "WHAT?! RON/LOVEGOOD?! OO" and to be honest I was actually trying to think of a possibility for that looool. Ok, you got me good XD Hope you like this chapter and don't worry, Hermione will get it bad, although it'll be super late into the story…

QtShades: Yup, I always read Slytherin fanfics where they're all just so…goody goody inside…it's cool and all, but sometimes, it really isn't realistic –o-; and as much as I wish I could say "screw the people, who cares about their opinion!" there's just going to be some meanie butts out there who will go out of their way to harass poor HPDM T-T

Chocola Emo Shizzle: Haha baaaah, I want to read it now!! Squeee yes, that's definitely what I'll be doing after I upload this chapter!! Wai wai, I'm sure your fanfic is going to be awesome, I can't wait! XD

Thay: No worries, your English is actually really good—better than some native English speakers, in fact! I try hard to portray my characters' feelings well and I am so glad that it has been acknowledged! I don't think I will ever stop writing (although I do have some long hiatuses –o-)…it's a great way to express my feelings 

SasuNaru123: Aw, thanks  Hope you continue to read my fanfic!

Akira Shinaichi: …Yeaaaaaaa, I just noticed that so I changed it recently. Omgosh, I keep forgetting how many people died in the war –o-; Hope I made things right…thanks for looking out for me 

Kasmo: Haha yea, a guitar xD I really didn't like how everyone gives Draco the stereotype of "Oh, just because hes 'aristocratic' (another common stereotype I cannot stand) and he's seems so 'prim and proper'' that he just _has_ to have a classy instrument like a piano/violin." One of the main points of my story is to break through those stereotypes, to reveal that beneath the mask, there is a completely different person. The guitar is not supposed to fit the "aristocratic" Draco; it is a muggle and crude object that represents the hurtful, corrupted Draco within, if that makes sense. In other words, the guitar is a sort of giant symbolism.

Dreaming-Sensations: Yea…I seem to have a habit of forgetting who's dead-o- I'm just like "OH GOSH HE'S DEAD TOO #(&(#" I fixed it, I think…thanks for looking out for my mistakes 

Namaco: Wow, your review really is inspiring…and it really touches me that something I wrote could have such an effect. I really do hope you like my other fanfics and chapters in the future!

Fleure: Haha yea you're right, I need to change that. I'm sorry…I hate it when author's just stop writing randomly for months/years and here I am being just like them XoX I hope you haven't forgotten enough to abandon my story!

dantemalfoy: LOL I love your plot and yes, Lucius is dead! XD You're right though, I actually don't like giving characters specific roles of "top" or "bottom", but I suppose I made Draco more…submissive as he's the more emotionally unstable/depressed one while Harry is the emotionally unstable/temper one. When the chance arises, I'll try giving Draco a chance to shine ;D I'm glad you approve of my Ron though, as many seem to dislike his change. You're right though, human's change constantly, no matter how they seem…so why should Ron be any different:D

Hasamaki: :D?!

Wingedspiral: Thankies! Hope you enjoy this chappie!

I-Y-T-Y: Wowies, thanks! I always feel so honored when I hear someone putting my stories onto their favorites; it means so much to me :)

alethea fae: Haha yea, I'm sorry…mistake on my part. I fixed it though, by making Crabbe un-dead o.o; Thanks for watching out for me :)


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